In The Name of Love and War, Part III
by bri wesmoreland
Summary: Final installment in the Series. Part I dealt with the Archer/Rajiin affair & Trip's bargain to obtain the warp seven technology for Starfleet. Part II dealt with the consequences of those actions and Malcolm's forced return to black ops. Part III deals with the Romulan war, Jon's search for his son, Trip's future with Starfleet and how Malcolm deals with the spy who loves him.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Malcolm Reed looked at the woman in the bed. He felt her forehead. She was burning up with fever, yet her body shook with cold. He pulled the blankets up around her closer and tucked them under her neck. She had been practically delirious when he had brought her there, and quite near death.

He rubbed his hands together, then blew on them. It was cold as hell in that blasted cabin. He got up from the edge of the bed where his patient lay and walked over to the window. He pulled back the shade and looked out. He watched the snow pummel the already white covered hillside. He was concerned that they would be snowed in and that their rations would run out long before they could dig themselves out. Their shuttle craft had crash landed three days ago and he had tracked on foot, him dragging her behind him on a makeshift sled for almost three hours until he found shelter on this god-forsaken planet, an abandoned hunting-type lodge with no electricity. Malcolm sighed deeply. Suddenly, she started coughing violently.

Malcolm ran over to the bed and sat next to her. He raised up the top half of her body and held a cloth under her mouth as she spit up blood. "Easy, easy now," he said. She coughed a bit more. He wiped away the blood and the spittle. "Take it easy now," he said again. He then got up, poured some water and sat back down next to her. "Here, drink a little." She tried to swat it away but she was too weak.

"Come on, you need to drink just a swallow or two."

"N-no," she whispered.

"Why not?" he asked. "You need it."

"W-why are…why are you…doing this," she stammered.

"Because you need help, and I'm the only one here."

"Let me…die."

"You know I can't do that."

"You…bas…tard," she stammered.

"That's me, love," he grinned, "now drink." With that she sipped a little of the water. "That's great. Soup's for dinner, so get ready. Now that I know you can swallow, I'll be expecting you to get some of it down."

"Go…go…t-to…hell…" she whispered, then fell back onto the bed.

"That's the spirit," he said. Then he turned and went over to the fireplace, threw another log onto the fire and stirred it a bit more. He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain again staring out at the blanket of white.

"How the hell am I gonna get us out of here," he whispered to himself. Then suddenly, he felt someone approaching, but she was so ill just seconds ago. Perhaps she found the will to finally try and get out of bed. But when he turned to meet her eyes, he was startled by something cold and sharp tearing into his flesh.

"What- what the hell h-have you done!" he said as he grabbed his right side. He then looked at his hand and it was covered with blood. He felt the pain, but tried to immediately disconnect from it. The blood was flowing rapidly as well. Perhaps she had struck him in the kidney.

He grabbed her as she tried to stab him again and they struggled with the broken blade. Where she had gotten it from or when she had gotten it, he didn't know. He wrestled it away from her as she was too weak to put up a real fight, and tossed it across the room.

"You silly little fool!" he said as he started to stumble, trying desperately not to pass out. "You've probably just sealed both of our deaths. I was our only hope of survival!"

"Good!" She spat at him. "I told you…to let me die… Now you can die with me! I told you if I got the chance I would kill you! You should have listened!" she said as she stumbled backwards.

He grabbed her as she started to fall and looked her in her eyes, both of them tumbling to the floor together. But the person behind the eyes he saw betrayed the woman he was speaking to. "You're not…" he said confused. "You're not… _her_! _You're Not Her! You're… No! It can't be! You're not… You Are Not… Hoshi_!" he shouted!

She raised her head from the floor, looked at him directly, their eyes locking. Then she smiled a sinister looking smile at him… and darkness consumed them both.


	2. Chapter

Chapter Two

One Year following the Krios Prime Incident.

Erica Hernandez's Ready Room, the Star Ship Xfinity.

"Where is he?" Admiral Gardner bellowed at Captain Hernandez. "This is the second time Archer has missed a meeting with me this week! And the man hasn't even bothered to call and explain himself! Who the hell does he think he is?!"

"Admiral, he had an urgent situation to arise," Erica lied, trying to cover for Jon. "I'm sure he will contact you as soon as he returns."

"I don't know what could have been more important than missing two meetings with his superior officer! Now where is he," Gardner insisted.

"Sir, he didn't know you were coming up to the ship," Erica replied. "Had he known I'm sure he would have been here to greet you himself."

"You're scheduled to launch in thirty minutes Hernandez and your Fleet Captain isn't on the flag ship ready to roll out the fleet! Where's your fight plan? What are your orders?!"

"Admiral…"

"This is the last time I'm going to ask you Captain," Gardner said through gritted teeth. "Where is Commodore Archer?"

Erica's mind was racing trying to think of something to say, anything. "He…he, had to take a shuttle over to… over to the Intrepid… an urgent situation required his immediate attention …Sir."

Gardner looked at Erica warily. "Well why didn't you just say so? Raise him," Gardner said. Erica cringed on the inside. Then she reached over and commed the bridge.

"Lt. Sato," she said. "Would you get Captain Tucker for Admiral Gardner please? He would like to speak to the Commodore."

"The Commodore?" Hoshi replied.

"Yes. He went over earlier today to discuss an urgent, classified matter with Captain Tucker. However, Admiral Gardner is here now. Seems the Commodore's message that he needed to cancel their meeting, _again_ , failed to reach him, and now he would like to have a face to face, _now_."

"Oh… _oh!"_ Hoshi replied. "I will raise Captain Tucker…right away ma'am." A few minutes later Trip's face appeared on the view screen in Erica's ready room. Hoshi had tried to quickly tip Trip off as what was going on, but he was confused and had no idea what he was supposed to tell Admiral Gardner.

"Uh…Admiral Gardner," Trip started. "How are you? This is a surprise. It's good to see you Sir."

"Whatever Tucker, where's Archer?"

"He's uh…well, Sir. He's uh, in another part of the ship, taking care of some other more important matters. But…I'll tell him to call you as soon as possible…"

"Don't try it Tucker!" Gardner growled. "Now you listen to me, all of you! No more of these charades! I know Archer's not on your ship! Thirty minutes to launch and your fleet Captain's nowhere to be found! What the hell is going on?!"

Suddenly, Trip heard, _"the brig, have Admiral Gardner meet you at the brig of Enterprise, in 10 minutes."_

" _What?!"_ Trip replied in his mind. _"T'Pol, I'm sure we're all going to be in the brig after this debacle, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather it be later than sooner."_

" _Trip, trust me,"_ T'Pol said. _"Ten minutes."_

"I'm sorry Admiral," Trip said. "Sir, this is going to sound strange, but if you and Captain Hernandez would join me on Enterprise in ten minutes, Captain Reed will meet us there and explain everything to you." Gardner looked at Trip and back at Hernandez and made an exasperated sound.

"This had better be something pretty damned good and extremely important Tucker," he snapped, "In fact, it had better be damned excellent!" He then turned and walked away. Erica mouthed something at Trip behind Gardner's back. He just shrugged and threw his hands up at her.

The Brig, Enterprise. Ten Minutes Later.

Two MACOs were escorting three prisoners, two Rigelian and one Xindi Primate, to the brig. Commodore Archer, Captain Reed and T'Pol stood conversing and looking at something on a PADD as Trip, Erica and Admiral Gardner approached.

"Commodore?" Gardner said, somewhat surprised. Trip and Erica were even more surprised but tried not to let it show.

"Admiral," Jon said. "I must apologize for keeping you waiting Sir, but when I learned of this sensitive situation, I had to deal with it personally."

"And just what is this situation?" Gardner asked.

"If I may Sir," Malcolm said. Jon gestured for him to go ahead.

"One of these spies were discovered on this ship just a few hours ago," Malcolm explained. "When he was exposed, he gave away his cohort upon being questioned and the third was captured trying to escape on Jupiter Station. I immediately contacted the Commodore and he came over to participate in the interrogation process."

"Here's the intel," Jon said, handing the PADD to Gardner. He looked at it for a few moments.

"Nice work," he finally said. "But would it have killed you to let me know that you were working on something this big!"

"I thought I sent a message" Jon replied, "I guess in all the excitement, I never pressed send. I apologize."

"No need," Gardner said. "Where's your flight plan? Are you ready to launch?"

"Certainly," Jon replied and handed Gardner yet another PADD. He didn't even look at it. He just nodded and took the PADD with him.

"You guys need to get going. Echo Team is waiting to be relieved," he said. Then he turned to go.

"Allow me to escort you Admiral," Reed said. When they were gone, the others all blew out a long sigh.

"Whew!" Jon said. "Thanks everybody. I'm sorry for my delay in getting back. It won't happen again."

"And it shouldn't have happened this time!?" Erica snapped. "You get back here by the skin of your teeth, put this whole operation at risk and have all of us running around trying to cover your ass and lie for you, and all you can say is "it won't happen again!"

Jon hesitated a moment. "You're right, Erica. "I'm sorry. . I didn't mean to put all of you in the middle of this. And I shouldn't have put you in such a precarious position, to have to lie for me. That was wrong. I won't do that again."

"Commodore," Trip said. "Okay, I for one was taken by surprise and I admit, I wasn't prepared. But, I understand. Your absence couldn't be avoided. You thought you had a lead on your son's whereabouts. I understand that."

"I understand that too Jon!" Erica snapped. "But you can't keep this up! You can't continue to put everything at risk for this search! You're becoming obsessed!"

"What would you have me do Erica?" Jon snapped back. "Give up! Stop looking! Forget about him! Never! I won't, I won't ever stop looking! Do you understand that! Not ever!"

"Commodore, Captain Hernandez," T'Pol said. "I think it would be beneficial if you continued your discussion in private. Erica and Jon stood there fuming for a few moments, then they both turned without another word and stormed away.

Later.

Jon sat in his ready room on Xfinity, the flagship of the fleet, going over the new intelligence he'd just received. In just about an hour he'd share it with the Captains under his command. In all there were ten of them, including Erica, who was Captain of the Xfinity and largest in the fleet, a warp seven warship with a crew of 300, particle and phase cannons capability, and defensive shield technology. Malcolm was now Captain of Enterprise, with upgraded fire power and warp seven capability was impressive as a war ship in its own right. And now that the fleet had been completed, Trip and T'Pol, were also serving under Archer's command on the new warp seven ship, Intrepid; T'Pol still refusing to be promoted to Captain. The Intrepid held a crew of 245, and likewise had particle and phase cannon capability, as well as defensive shield technology. In addition, Columbia had been upgraded to warp seven capability, its captain, a newbie, Mark Phillips.

Jon's contingent, Shadow Company or SDC, not only consisted of the flagship and three warp seven vessels, but three warp five ships, the Essex, Star Gazer, and Tuscany along with three warp three vessels that were smaller but fast and could run interference and other lighter duties. Having averted a catastrophe with Admiral Gardner, they were finally underway, on their way to a 45 day assignment to deep space in key war zones. They had been on a 30 day shore leave and Jon had spent all of his leave time out in space chasing leads trying to find Raijin and his son. Each time SDC had earned any significant amount of shore leave that's what he did.

It had been that way for the last year, ever since the war started. This time had been no different, and Erica had tried to be supportive of his efforts but if the truth be told, she was sick of covering for Jon whenever he was distracted or late getting back, sick of spending no free time with him, and sick of him obsessing over his long lost son. She had just not said it, until now. She didn't want to come across as jealous or insensitive. She wanted to continue to be understanding and supportive but this was becoming ridiculous in her opinion.

Trip, T'Pol, and Malcolm, all sat in Jon's ready room on Xfinity where they had gathered to further discuss the intel Jon had received earlier in the day. He would meet with the other Captains under his command later. But things were still sensitive with this group and Jon knew he had to make sure things had been properly put in order so he met with them alone and it had been a good thing he had done so too. They were in the middle of the meeting when things between Jon and Erica went south. Try as she might, Erica was having a difficult time keeping things on a professional level and even more difficulty hiding her feelings. After an open display of attitude, sarcasm and borderline disrespect in front of the others Jon had asked the others to step into the hallway to give him and Erica a private moment. Now they were yelling and screaming at one another.

"We should not be listening to their private conversation," T'Pol said.

"Conversation?" Malcolm said incredulously. "It's a bloody cage fight!"

"It's not like we're eavesdropping on purpose, they asked us to wait out here," Trip added. "But this is bad, their personal stuff is starting to spill over into the work place too much. Jon barely made it back in time. I swear when Erica commed me I had no idea what I was gonna say to Gardner. If you hadn't said something T'Pol, it would have been over."

"If the Commodore hadn't showed up on that shuttle with those prisoners it certainly _would_ have been over," Malcolm replied.

"Yes, it was a clever deception," T'Pol said.

"I'll say," Malcolm replied. "It was just fortunate the Admiral didn't want to question those low-lives himself. Considering they didn't know shit about shit."

"And the intel on that padd?" Trip asked.

"Oh that came from me," Malcolm said. "At least from one of my sources. It was just totally unconnected to those three. No matter though. They're guilty of plenty other crap to continue holding them. We'll just have to sort it all out later."

"A clever deception indeed," T'Pol repeated. "It was unfortunate that it was needed."

"Like I said earlier," Trip interjected with a hint of irritation in his voice, "Jon is just trying to do everything he can to find his son, and I don't blame him one bit! I'd be doing the same thing if there was any chance I could find my…" Trip stopped himself. There was no finding Elizabeth, or Lorian for that matter, if he ever existed.

"You should not be encouraging him," T'Pol said. "The universe at times seems infinite and this search is a massive undertaking. That child could be anywhere."

" _That child?"_ Trip said with a frown. "T'Pol, I can't believe you just said that. " _That child"_ is Jonathan Archer, Jr., and his father wants him back. So I don't blame him, and yes I will encourage him to look for him every chance he gets!"

T'Pol looked at Trip oddly. "Have you gone completely insane?" she asked.

"No not completely," Trip replied. "I've still got at least two brain cells left. Maybe they work on two different days, but they do work. How does encouraging someone to keep searching for the only family they have make me crazy?!"

"The odds of him finding the child are slim to none. He should not get his hopes up. Besides there is a war going on, his first priority is as commander of this fleet."

"Listen to yourself T'Pol," Trip said. "You sound like your old self, not the one that I've come to know and love."

"And you sound most illogical and the way a human male would in such a situation."

"You must have been talking to Erica," Trip snapped. "I get it, she's upset, she doesn't like the situation, and I guess I can see her side of it too, but when it's all said and done it's really none of our business, so why are " _we"_ fighting about it?!"

Suddenly Hoshi appeared. "Excuse me," she began. "But is there any way you could, I don't know, hold it down and maybe get _them_ to hold it down too," she said pointing at the closed door where Erica and Jon were going at it. "People are beginning to wonder what's going on."

Trip blew out a long sigh and ran his hand over his face. "If anybody asks Hoshi just tell 'em to mind their business. Better yet, tell 'em to come see me if they got a problem!"

" _We...ll… ooo…kay then_ , whatever you say," Hoshi replied. "I'm just the hired help you know."

"Lt. Sato," Malcolm smiled standing up straight. "It's good to see you. How have you been?"

"What's it to you, Captain Reed," she replied flatly.

"No need to be rude. I was just trying to be polite," Malcolm replied.

"Well, there's no need to be polite to me," she said.

"Oh come on Hoshi. How long are we going to keep this up? Can't we at least be cordial," Malcolm asked frowning.

"While on duty, I have to speak to you. Off duty I don't. And unless you have to talk to me about ship or Starfleet business, I would prefer that you never speak to me again, ever, in this life time… _Sir_ ," Hoshi said with a fake smile and a sharp salute, then turned and walked away.

"That was totally uncalled for Hoshi," Trip said after her, but she never stopped walking or responded. "What the hell is the matter with everybody," Trip said, throwing up his hands. "Has everybody we know gone crazy?!"

Suddenly Erica came tearing out of the room past everyone not speaking a word. Jon followed after her, but went in the opposite direction.

"Well, I guess this meeting is officially adjourned," Malcolm said, then he turned and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Several Weeks Later.

Deep Space, between Tellar and Coridan.

Shadow Company was still in the war zones but Trip had volunteered for a special assignment. Intrepid was to rendezvous with a Vulcan cruisier transporting several Tellarite and Coridian dignitaries traveling back from Earth after a conference and meet the Coridian ship that would deliver them safely back to their home worlds. The route was dangerously close to the war zones and there were rumors that Romulan ships had been detected passing through the area. The Vulcan ship had no intention of engaging in a battle if it could be avoided and Starfleet had offered its assistance since it had ships in the area. The three day mission had been completed without incident and now Intrepid was on its way back to join its company.

Day Three. Gamma Shift.

It was cold, and Trip just couldn't seem to get warm. He was from Florida and always loved the warmer climates, but he'd gotten used to the colder climates having been in space all these years. Although he still hated Andoria. That frozen waste land, as he referred to it, (though it was quite beautiful) was the last place he ever wanted to visit again, and while you were at you could keep Coridan and Sorazans too. And if he was cold, poor T'Pol was freezing her buns off, he thought. He could feel her. As a matter of fact, that was probably why he was so cold.

He got up to get some hot coffee while he peered over ship wide reports. He sipped the coffee slowly as his body began to warm. _"Thank you,"_ the voice in his head said.

" _You're welcome,"_ he replied. _"Be happy to relieve you."_

" _Nonsense,"_ she said. _"It's my shift. I will be fine."_

" _Okay. Just tryna help. Gamma shift bridge duty can be pretty boring."_

" _I welcome boring after what we've experienced over the last few weeks."_

" _Yeah, I guess you're right,"_ Trip replied.

" _I" am always right,"_ she teased.

" _Commander T'Pol, when you talk like that it makes me wanna come up to the bridge and rip your clothes right off you and do things to you right there in the command chair, right in front of the entire crew! Dirty, nasty things!"_

" _Really!"_ she replied, _"and would those things involve…"_ and she repeated several acts that made Trip almost spit his coffee out and his body temperature increase several degrees.

"No fair T'Pol!" he said out loud. "And now I have to go to bed alone! No friggin' fair!"

" _Well look at it this way Kidiwa, neither of us remain… cold. T'Pol out."_

Suddenly, the ship shook. Trip went flying out of his chair and hit the floor hard. "What the hell," he yelled out loud as he picked himself up cradling his right arm. He wiped the blood from his forehead with his left hand and reached for his comm.

"Captain Tucker to bridge! Captain to…"

"Red alert! Red alert!" the alarm started blasting. Trip didn't hesitate, he just bolted out of his quarters. As he raced for the lift, he noticed that he couldn't contact T'Pol. When he finally made it to the bridge in sweats and a T-shirt, he saw her sprawled out on the floor with a couple of crewmen trying to attend to her.

"T'Pol!" he yelled, and raced to her side.

"I've called for a medic," Ensign Carter told him.

"Captain! We've got a ship off the starboard bow and another just flew over," Lt. Lynch shouted from ops.

"And we didn't detect anything on scanners until they were on top of us?"

"No Sir," the Science Office replied. "They had to be hiding somewhere Captain, behind a moon maybe or in a gas giant. Your orders Sir?"

Trip looked over at the Lieutenant and back at T'Pol. He wanted to stay there and hold her, make sure she was alright. He could see the green blood oozing from the side of her head and her chest. He was worried as to how badly she was hurt. But he knew he had to get a handle on this situation.

"Captain!" Carter called out again.

"Weapons on line Lieutenant!?"

"Yes Sir!"

"Get 'em hot then, hot as hell! Then get that bird off our ass! Comm?" he said to Ensign Fillmore.

"Yes Sir?"

"Get Captain Reed and Hernandez on the line, anybody from SDC close by. We need back up and we need it fast."

Just then the other war bird began to come about. "Captain," the helmsman said, "Warbird number one is coming about."

"Alright Carter," Trip said, sparing T'Pol a glance, "as soon as she's in range fire at will, full photon torpedo blast." Carter waited a few minutes, then let loose volley after volley of fire power. As soon as Intrepid did so, the other war bird hit them from behind. Everyone went flying, including Trip.

"Everybody…o-okay?" he gasped. "Bring us…about Vincent," he said. But the helmsman lay silent over the console. Trip pulled himself up and hobbled over to it. He felt for a pulse and found one. He pushed the young man to the floor quickly.

"Sorry Vince," he said as they had no time for pleasantries at the moment. Trip took the helm and started to bring the ship about. "Gimme some fire power Carter," he said. "Blast that son-of-a bitch in front of us!"

"Aye…Sir," Carter gasped, and fired the torpedoes at the already damaged war bird. It spun out of control as Intrepid flew past it. It then blew into bits. At that moment the other war bird started to chase Intrepid.

"Get engineering!" Trip said. "We need to make a run for it, I need warp seven and then some!"

"Comm's down sir," Ensign Fillmore said.

"Damn it!" Trip said, banging his injured hand on the console. "Seems all I can muster is warp two-three at the most! Where the hell is Shadow Company?"

"Sir a ship is in close sensor range!" Filmore said. "It's its, Enterprise!" Moments later Malcolm appeared on the vid screen.

"Captain Tucker," Malcolm said. "At your service."

"Bout time!" Trip shouted. "We've been hit, warbirds, they came from nowhere, all powered up and ready to go too, caught us by surprise. We took care of one of 'em, but its twin brother is lurking about out here somewhere so be on the alert."

"We're scanning now," Reed said. "And we've got your back. Just concentrate on getting your engines up to top speed."

"Thanks Captain," Trip said and cut the communication. For several minutes nothing happened.

But suddenly the warbird de-cloaked so close to Intrepid that a few more meters and they would have crashed into one another. But concealing itself cost the Romulan ship and they were unable to power their weapons quickly. Therefore Enterprise was able to intervene immediately. Reed put his ship in between the damaged Intrepid and the Romulan warbird and let loose a vicious assault on the ship sending the warbird into a fiery hell. Everyone on Intrepid cheered.

Suddenly, another war bird de-cloaked right behind Enterprise and another just 500 kilometers away.

"Helmsman, move us off," Reed ordered. "It'll take them a few minutes to power up their weapons. Then, bring us about. I want a fresh look at that bird that just joined the party. Teach them not to sneak up on Enterprise."

"Aye sir," the helmsman replied, and did as ordered. Suddenly there was a comm from Intrepid and Trip appeared on the vid screen.

"What the hell is this Malcolm?" Trip asked. "These cloaked ships sneaking up on us, knowing they can't power up their weapons right away? What gives?"

"I don't like it, could be a trap," Malcolm said. "Scan for any ships in the area, long range," he said to his science officer. "Maybe these ships are just here to keep us busy."

"I could see those bastards sending out ships to sacrifice themselves, wear us out, then send in the second team!" Trip said.

"Five war birds approaching on long range scanners sir, 25,000 kilometers, warp seven," the science officer said. "And they're on an intercept course."

"Shit!" Trip said.

"You need to get out of here Trip," Malcolm said. "Do what you can to get your warp drive on line. Comm get the rest of SDC on the line. They need to get here like yesterday!"

"Sir, the Romulan vessel is attempting to power its weapons," the tactical officer said.

"Oh no you don't," Reed replied. "This is my party. Blast that bastard to hell Mr. Mills!" The young man began firing particle phase cannons at the war bird. "Target their engines. They want it hot, we'll show them what hot feels like!" Enterprise continued the assault until the war bird's engines began a warp core overload.

Malcolm watched as Intrepid moved off to a safe distance. "Now that Captain Tucker's ship is out of harm's way, Reed said, "Let's assist our friends with their hastening warp core breach. Wouldn't want their trip to hell to be delayed now would we?"

"Aye sir, with pleasure," the tactical officer replied and sent out a phase cannon torpedo sending the war bird on its way.

In a few minutes, the five Romulan war birds that had shown up on scanners were bearing down upon Enterprise and the damaged Intrepid, still trying to restore its engines to warp speed. But the rest of the fleet made its arrival simultaneously and a full scale battle ensued.

One of the war birds tried to finish off Intrepid. "Not on my watch!" Reed said. "Mills! Get that bird off Intrepid's ass, now!" Enterprise then attacked the warbird from behind, but it seemed intent that wherever it was going, on taking Intrepid with it. But the XO on Columbia wasn't having it.

"Let's give Captain Reed a hand," Lt. Commander Travis Mayweather said on the bridge of Columbia. He had transferred there a year ago on a temporary assignment, but it had been a good fit for him so he never returned to Enterprise. He had actually flourished over there. At present Travis' Captain, Mark Phillips, had been knocked unconscious during the battle and the XO had to assume immediate command.

"Draw that bird away from that ship. Any more damage to Intrepid and it's a gonner. Let's see if we can piss the Rommys off enough to chase us," Travis barked. With that, Columbia flew in close to where Enterprise and the Romulan war bird were going at it. Columbia pummeled the enemy ship then flew over and past it. The war bird, needing to retreat from Enterprises' assault, saw an opportunity, and gave chase after Columbia.

"Run it down!" Reed said. "Keep blasting the bastard!"

"Now bank hard and bring us about!" Travis said. "Then the mouse is gonna chase the cat for a few minutes. Long enough for a kill shot, real quick and in a hurry like; but all nine lives Lieutenant, you got that!"

"Aye Sir," the tactical officer replied. "All nine lives!" With that, the young female helmsman banked and turned the ship. A move, Travis himself had taught her and she executed it flawlessly.

Suddenly, Columbia was heading straight for the war bird it had been moments ago running from. Then the gunman let loose a particle cannon blast resulting in a direct hit of the war bird, full frontal. Columbia then flew straight over the enemy ship. In turn Enterprise rendered the death blow, right up the war bird's ass, flew up and kept it moving.

There were still three other war birds to contend with, but Xfinity, Essex, Tuscany and Star Gazer were dealing with them decisively.

In a few minutes, Enterprise was bearing down on one of the war birds that had turned its attention away from the other ships and had just finished attacking Columbia.

"I'm in the mood to see a lovely firestorm," Malcolm said. "Now Mr. Mills!" With that the young man delivered a terrible assault upon the enemy vessel. They all watched as the Romulan ship began to blow apart.

"Finish the job Mills, now!" Reed said. And there was yet another borage of fire power. Then, Enterprise flew over and Intrepid, though damaged and thought to be long counted out of the battle, was able to render the death blow. Reed then turned its attention to helping Xfinity, Star Gazer and the Essex finished off the last of the enemy ships.

It was indeed an awful, yet lovely firestorm.

Space Dock, Jupiter Station. Three Days Later.

Intrepid had to be towed back to Jupiter station by Xfinity as the rest of the company retreated from the war zone, the battle over, and their relief on its way. A few days later they would be within Vulcan air space and closer to home.

Captain's Mess, Intrepid.

"How's T'Pol?" Malcolm asked.

"She had a few cuts and scrapes from getting hit by flying shrapnel," Trip said when they had sat down and Trip poured them both a couple of glasses of bourbon. "But she got hit in the head really hard, that's what scared the hell out of me. At first the doc thought she might have suffered a minor brain bleed, turned out to be a nasty concussion. But she's getting better".

"That's good to hear," Malcolm replied.

"Hey I been meaning to tell you, you were great out there," Trip said. "Sure saved my ass. Yet you've been moody, restless and jumpy as hell. I know you're not still worried about proving yourself as a Captain. I'd say you've done that and then some."

Malcolm smiled a bit and looked down into his glass. "No, that's not it."

"Then lighten up will ya? We're headed for shore leave, and a well-deserved one at that. Yet you seem out of sorts. I mean, I know what's wrong with me, but you've always had it together."

" _Always had it together?_ " Malcolm spat. "Guess you forgot about my little near court martial event when you were over there on Columbia living it up a couple of years ago." Trip made an exasperated sound. "And what about the whole section 31 hold over me? What about that?"

"Okay, I'll give you that. But don't let us start comparing whose life's been the crappiest over the last few years, cause I think mine would beat yours out, hands down," Trip replied. Then he raised his drink to Malcolm and they clinked glasses and tore into the pineapple cake and pecan pie they had in front of them.

"What I meant to say before is that you really don't seem like yourself," Trip said. "Everything going okay on Enterprise?"

"Enterprise is…fine…I suppose."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, I don't know Trip, I guess I thought this was going to be different; that command was going to be different. I thought _"things"_ were going to be different. Do you know what I mean?"

"In a way I guess," Trip replied. "I mean I'm doing what needs to be done as Captain of Intrepid. I'm trying to do my part in this war, to protect our people, United Earth, but…I don't know. I miss those days back when we were explorers, out in space, having fun, and all I had to do was be a Chief Engineer."

"All that changed with the Xindi," Malcolm said, downing his drink and gesturing for another.

Trip poured them another glass. "Yeah nothing was ever quite the same after the Xindi huh?"

"No, no it wasn't," Malcolm sighed.

"So now we're soldiers instead of explorers, and I know that's not what I signed up for. But…it is what it is. And since this is what I gotta do, since this is the card we've been dealt, damned if I wanna see us just run up the white flag or just roll over and see it all go to hell in a hand basket for lack of trying, for lack of doing everything I can and then some to win this war!"

"That's just it Trip, I just don't think Starfleet sees it that way!" Malcolm said, frustration in his voice. "These Romulans are playing for keeps! They don't take prisoners, they're conquerors! They plan to enslave our world! But Starfleet's war strategy is to fight them in the old ways! Take that thing the Rommys did in that last battle, sending those ships out to sacrifice them-selves, to distract us, all the while, sending the second team in to take us out. Now, I'm not suggesting we use kamikaze ships, but damn it, we better come up with some new tactics real quick, fast and in a hurry if we're going to come out on top of this thing!"

"I know Mal, I know! It fuckin' boggles the mind! How do we fight that kind of strategy, that kind of thinking? But I don't know what to do! The brass doesn't listen to the likes of you and me! So I guess all we can do is follow orders. You know I used to get so pissed off at Jon back in the early days when he would go on and on about rules and regulations and this is classified and that's classified. It would drive me nuts! But now that I'm a Captain, I guess I understand a whole lot better. You can't just let folk go running ram shod, breaking the rules no matter how right they think they are."

"Don't I know it," Malcolm replied. "And I'm certainly not one to talk! I've always been such a stickler for the rules. I was so quick to judge others, the ones that didn't measure up to my standards. But really, I was a hypocrite. Little did anyone know at the time, I was the biggest rule breaker of them all. I'd been a bloody spy, lied, cheated and killed!"

"But you'd put that life behind you Mal. And you were an exemplary tactical and security officer, the finest." Malcolm didn't respond, he just downed his drink. Trip watched him a few moments. "Is something else bothering you Mal?" he finally asked.

Malcolm looked at Trip before speaking and sat up straight in his chair. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to laugh."

"Sure, okay, I promise," Trip said wondering where this was going. Malcolm cleared his throat.

"I've been having this… recurring dream, a… nightmare really," Malcolm began.

"What's funny about that," Trip replied. "I been there and done that. Nightmares can really screw with you. Take it from me. So what's this nightmare about?"

"I keep having this dream about… about being on some frozen planet, trapped…snowed in, in this log cabin or something," Malcolm explained. "With a woman. Sometimes it's that Allison Wells, remember her?"

"Pppsshh, how could I forget her," Trip replied, "go on."

"Well, like I said we're trapped in this cabin on a frozen planet, and I'm trying to save her life. She rewards me by taking mine… she kills me. But sometimes, it's not her…sometimes…it's Hoshi."

"Hoshi kills you?"

"Yes. Well, I think its Hoshi. Sometimes I can't tell who this woman is, or maybe they're the same person."

"What?"

"I told you it was crazy," Malcolm said. "Forget I said anything. I must be getting drunk!"

"It's not crazy if it's messing with you," Trip replied. "Why don't you talk to somebody?"

"No, forget it. It's stupid. It's just that… sometimes it seems like more than a dream. I wake up sometimes in a cold sweat, or freezing cold, shivering. I swear it! This fucking dream seems like it's really happening…it seems…almost like a premonition. What do you think it means?"

"I don't know what it means Mal," Trip admitted. "But this dream is apparently disturbing you and messing with your sleep, so I think you should at least consider talking to somebody about it."

Malcolm sighed heavily, embarrassed that he'd even said anything. "Alright, alright, I'll consider it," he lied. "But let's just drop it for now, alright?"

"If you say so," Trip replied with concern in his voice. "But look, it's not all that unusual that you would be dreaming about Hoshi, you were in a real relationship with her and you still care about her."

"Dreaming about someone I care for is one thing, but having a recurring, disturbing nightmare about being murdered by a sadistic killer and not being able to tell the difference between the two is quite another."

"I'll give you that," Trip said. "But, if it hadn't been for that damned Harris and section 31, you would never have gotten back into the spy game, you would never have lost Hoshi in the first place."

"I don't blame Harris Trip. I lost Hoshi because I wasn't honest with her, because I wasn't honest with myself."

"Why don't you try to work things out with her Mal," Trip said. "You know you still love her, and she still loves you."

"Trip, she hates me. You saw how she treated me the last time she saw me."

"She's just putting on a front Mal. Still got her wall up to keep from getting hurt again. You gotta find a way to break through all that."

"I already tried to approach her a few months ago and she shot me down."

"Just because she didn't respond like you thought, doesn't mean she's moved on."

"It certainly does," Malcolm replied. "I have it on good authority that she's seeing someone else."

"Well, _I_ have it on good authority that she's _not_ ," Trip replied.

"Who told you that?" Malcolm asked as he reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink.

"You know Hoshi and Liz Cutler are pretty tight, right? All you gotta do is just give Ms. Liz the right key and she'll sing like a bird."

"She is such a friggin' little gossip," Malcolm said, his speech starting to slur now. "I don't trust anything that woman says…" Trip watched Mal for a few moments as he fidgeted in his seat. " _Well_...What did she say?"

"She said Hoshi wasn't over you that's what."

"She said that?" Malcolm replied with interest. Then he frowned. "It's official, I'm drunk. Doesn't matter. It's over between us."

"You're giving up too easy, "Trip replied as he rose. "I think you should at least be sure. C'mon, I better walk you home Captain Reed. Anybody ever told you that you were a lousy date?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three

A Few Days Later. Xfinity, Jon's Quarters.

For the last 42 days, Jon's team had been in deep space in war zones and now they were home in space dock at Jupiter Station. Another contingent had rotated out to replace them as their ships would undergo repairs, and the crew enjoyed a 30 day shore leave.

Jon looked at himself in the mirror. He seemed to have aged five years in the last year. What with this damned war, commanding a fleet, his strained relationship with Erica and the loss of his son. His son…Jonathan Archer, Jr…affectionately known as "Johnny." He'd only known him for four weeks, four lousy weeks. That's when his mother, Rajiin, cut and ran with him, leaving no traces of where she went.

"Damn it!" Jon said out loud, then threw his glass across the room that he had been drinking from. If he had never met that damned Rajiin…if he had never been attracted to her in the first place… never slept with her…he would never have had a child with her! So why had she come back anyway, tracked him down, told him about Johnny, let him see him, touch him…hold him, only to snatch him away from him?

I guess he knew now in some way, maybe, what Trip and T'Pol felt, what they went through when their baby…when Elisabeth died. But this was different wasn't it? Their baby was dead, gone forever, and they only got to be with her for a few hours, a couple of days at the most. How cruel, how awful. Jon knew they were hurt at the time, everyone was. He just couldn't possibly understand the depth of their loss then. But now that he had seen his own child, touched him, smelled him, looked into the eyes of his own flesh and blood, he understood on a much different level. The pain was unbearable at times. He didn't know what to do. All he could do was work, fight…fight in this fucking war! He tried to calm himself so he poured himself another drink, but he couldn't stop thinking about his problems.

If it weren't for the war he could be out there searching and looking full time. Oh he had people out there doing just that. He was spending everything he had on it in fact, and it was driving him insane. It was the Xindi all over again! That's why he and Erica were so strained, because he wouldn't, couldn't let it go. But Johnny was his child, not hers. If she was a mother, maybe she could understand, but she wasn't. Maybe if she had lost a child, maybe she could understand his pain. Nobody understood, but Trip. Trip had told him that if there was any way, anything he could do to bring Elizabeth back, he wouldn't hesitate, he'd do it. He wouldn't let anything stand in his way. But this damned war! This damned war!

"This damned war!" Jon said out loud as he crushed the glass he was drinking from until it broke into pieces.

A few minutes later he was sitting on a bio-bed in sick bay and Phlox was running a medical scanner over his hand. "Tell me again Commodore, how did this little accident come to happen?" Jon looked up at the doctor annoyed.

"I already told you doc," Jon lied, "I thought I saw an insect of some sort flying in front of the mirror and I tried to kill it."

"Hhmmm," Phlox said. "Insects, this far out into space?"

"Could have easily escaped from one of your cages or, or who the hell knows Phlox, just stitch me up and stop with the 20 questions already, you got that?"

"Certainly Commodore." Phlox went on to repair the cut. "It will be good as new within a few days," he said with a big smile.

"Thank you doctor," Jon said looking at his hand and jumping off the bio-bed. He then started for the door when he was stopped by the doctor.

"Oh and uh Commodore, if you need to talk, you know I'm here," Phlox said. "The loss of a child can be devastating. Even though the loss was not through death, sometimes, not knowing can be just as painful… when there is no closure that is." Jon looked away for a few moments, placing his hands on his hips.

"I'll keep that in mind doctor," he finally said, then dashed out of sickbay. He almost bumped into Trip on his way out.

"Hey Commodore," Trip said.

"Trip," Jon said, barely raising his eyes. "What are you doing over here? Everything alright?"

"Fine," Trip replied. "Phlox asked me to come by and see him since we were in space dock. You know… for an annual check-up," he lied. "So, here I am… Wouldn't wanna get put on report or anything for not following orders. What about you?"

"Oh uh, just needed something to stop the ringing in my ears. Well goodnight," Jon said and practically tore down the hallway.

Trip stood there and waited until Jon was gone contemplating why his friend was really there to see Phlox. But he didn't spend too much time wondering, he was too busy being concerned about why _he_ was really there.

Enterprise. Reed's Ready Room.

Malcolm's interests were divided. He felt fortunate and grateful to have been named captain of Enterprise. After all it had been Earth's first warp five space ship. It was the celebrated hero ship of the Xindi war, as it had been come to be known. It was a privilege to be her captain… and he was doing a really fine job at it. He had the credentials and the skills and he had legitimately earned the promotion….so why did he feel so weird about it, for lack of a better word.

Malcolm was conflicted because he was being pulled in another direction, a direction without walls and rules, without protocols and parameters, very few anyway. It was the danger and intrigue of covert operations that made the blood in his veins run rampant. Sure, being a ship Captain had its danger and excitement, especially in the mist of battle, but it was the day to day hum drum, the reporting of every minute detail, the ridiculousness of Starfleet and the Corp of Admirals, the bureaucracy that drove him crazy. That was something that he and Trip shared and talked about often. At first Trip had been surprised that Malcolm had issues with some of the rules and regulations almost as much as did. He had always seen Malcolm as a by the book kind of guy. Of course, he hadn't always known about Malcolm's shady past.

It wasn't so much that Malcolm hated rules. He hated not getting things done. He hated tiptoeing around, playing games and political posturing when hard and tough decisions needed to made quickly and decisively. Starfleet needed more warp seven ships built and more operatives in the field, the kind that were willing to do almost anything, that would give everything and put their lives on the line to get valuable intel and do whatever was necessary to gain the upper hand on the enemy.

Malcolm had met some of Starfleet Intelligence's supposedly top operatives, and with the exceptions of the likes of Gannet Brooks, Jarret Ross and one or two others, he hadn't been all that impressed. Section 31 had some bad asses on the payroll though, or under its thumb, depending on how you saw it. But half of those guys either couldn't be trusted or bordered on insanity on a good day.

Suddenly, he received a comm. He reached over and answered it. "Reed here," he said to the Gamma shift comm operator.

"Captain, you have a high security sub space communication," the young man said.

"Patch it here to my ready room," he said. A few moments later a voice greeted him.

"We secure," the female voice asked.

"Of course, all of our communications are."

"I just want to be sure," Gannet said. "The last thing I need is for my cover to be blown out here."

"You needn't ever worry about that. I wouldn't put your life at risk, you know that."

"Thanks Viper."

"Any word."

"I thought I had something on her a couple of weeks ago. A C'Darsian merchant met a young woman with alluring eyes and other unique gifts, traveling with a baby, out near a remote outpost in the Delta quadrant."

Malcolm sat up straight in his seat. "That had to be Rajiin. Were you able to get a location on her?"

"She left before my guy could get to her," Gannet said. "But he's hot on the trail."

"Gannet, that's wonderful news!"

"Don't say anything to the Commodore though," she replied. "The universe is a big place and Rajiin really knows her way around. If somebody wants to get lost, they can do it. I'd hate to get his hopes up if it turns out it's not her."

"I would never say anything to him unless we knew for sure," Malcolm said. "He's been through enough with that bim."

"Geez Viper, that designation usually refers to someone that's a dumb bunny. She really isn't stupid you know. She's just had it kinda tough don't you think?"

"Maybe. I just never really cared all that much for her. I guess I shouldn't judge her though. Anyway, thanks Gannet, for taking time away from your real assignment to do this for me. I appreciate it. Got anything else for me, as it relates to the war I mean?"

"Or _her_?" Malcolm was silent for a moment. "What is it about her?" Gannet asked.

"What do you mean by that," Malcolm asked frowning.

"What is it about her that makes you _feel_ something for her?"

"I don't feel anything for her but disgust and contempt," Malcolm spat. "I was just thinking that it would be great if V'Shele were actually captured and brought to justice this time. If she's even still alive."

"C'mom Vipe, you know demons like her are hard to kill. She's still alive, and she'll resurface. When she does, you'll be the first to know. But I have to ask, what's gonna happen when she does? It's not like you're gonna be able to go after her. You're stuck signing off on requests to swap shift assignments and permission to change the lighting in the mess hall."

"That's not fair Jet," Malcolm said. "What I do is just as important as what you do."

Gannet blew out a sigh. "You're right, I'm sorry. I can't help myself, just wish you were here, that's all… where you belong."

"Still trying to recruit me?"

"Just trying to help you submit to your true calling."

"Yeah whatever, _Captain_ Reedout!"

"Whatever you say, _Viper!_ Jet out!"Then she cut the communication. Reed let out an exasperated sound as the screen went black.

Thirty Days Later.

Shore leave was over and it was time for Jon's fleet to ship out again. Once Hoshi had returned from the surface she was surprised to learn that her secret admirer had struck again. Ever since the Krios Prime incident she'd been getting flowers and gifts from someone who had not yet identified themselves. At first she was flattered. She had guessed they were from Malcolm, but he had claimed ignorance. When she confronted Travis, he didn't fess up either. She was truly baffled, and at first she had liked it as it seemed sweet and mysterious, then it just got creepy and she wanted it to stop. Her favorite flowers, candy, stuffed animals, cards, everything she liked, intimate notes. It was as if someone was watching her.

"Hoshi, for the last time," Travis said, "it wasn't me. I swear it. It's not my style, you know that. If I want to give you a gift, I'm gonna give it to you in person so I can see the look on your face."

Hoshi blew out a sigh and just stared at her friend on the vid screen. "Then I'm at a loss Travis. I don't know who's doing this."

"You know who it is," Travis said.

"It's not Malcolm," Hoshi replied.

"Yes it is," Travis snapped. "Didn't he send you that room full of plants and flowers a few months ago?"

"Yeah, he admitted that he did it the very first time," Hoshi said. "But he hasn't taken credit for any of the other gifts since then."

"What kind of mind game is trying to play with you?"

"C'mon Travis, Malcolm playing a game? Get real."

"What about the delivery service, didn't they pick anything up on vid screen?"

"No, the orders were all placed remotely. Besides, they're not all that worried about who sent the gifts and who's paying for them, as long as they're getting paid and nobody's getting hurt."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't either. Maybe you should just enjoy the presents."

"Maybe. But it's kinda getting weird at this point," Hoshi replied.

"Hey look," I gotta go on duty in a minute," Travis said. "But I have every confidence that _Captain Reed_ is gonna come forth as the culprit very, very soon. So don't worry about it, okay."

"If you say so," Hoshi said. "Talk to you soon." With that the screen went black.

That Night. Jupiter Station.

Hoshi had called and asked Malcolm to join her for dinner at a restaurant on Jupiter station that night. He had been taken by surprise to say the least considering their last encounter had been very icy, but he was elated that she had invited him. He had sent her flowers last year after the Krios Prime incident in hopes of trying to rekindle their relationship, but Hoshi had told him that too much had happened between them, too much hurt; she had shot him down and sent him on his way. Then he had gotten promoted to Captain and she had left Enterprise to serve on Xfinity with Commodore Archer. It seemed like a perfect solution, they didn't have to see one another. Whenever they did run into one another things had not gone well. Now she had called him out of the blue wanting to have dinner.

Malcolm was nervous, _him nervous_. But perhaps he shouldn't make too much out of this, after all this was just dinner, nothing more.

"Hi," Hoshi said as she approached the table where Malcolm was sitting. He rose up and greeted her.

"Hello Hoshi," he said and gestured for her to sit. She slid into the booth opposite of him. She was wearing a short blue, fitted dress and jeweled sandals. Her hair was down as well. He was dressed casually in denims and a dark shirt, with a jacket. Trip had warned him not to wear the dress slacks, formal looking shirt and tie, that it looked too stiff, like he was trying too hard.

"You look lovely tonight," Malcolm said smiling at the young woman sitting across from him.

"Thanks," she said, "you don't look half bad yourself."

"Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Yeah, sure," she said. "What are you having?"

"A chardonnay," he replied.

"I'll have the same." Malcolm gestured for the waiter to come over and ordered her wine.

"I'm sorry," she said, "about being so snarky the last time I saw you."

"No need to apologize," he said. "I know you were still mad at me, and I'm sure I deserved it."

"Actually Malcolm, I stopped being mad at you a while ago. I was just being bitchy. And yeah, you deserved it." Then she smiled at him and he laughed a little at that.

It was awkward at first, but as the evening went on and after a couple more glasses of wine, they were more relaxed and pretty soon, they were chatting away about everything. They were catching up on one another's families', their respective ships, Starfleet gossip, everything. It was _almost_ , like old times. The subject they avoided, was Travis.

"Malcolm," Hoshi finally said near then end of dinner, "the reason I wanted to see you was because I needed to ask you something."

Malcolm got a sinking feeling in his stomach, having no idea where this was going. "I'm still getting gifts, lots and lots of gifts, from someone. A secret admirer I guess. And I have no idea who's sending me this stuff. And it's all the things I like too. I mean, flowers, jewelry, perfume, art work, etc. Malcolm, only a few people in the world know what I really like. At first I thought it was sweet and mysterious, but it's gotten a bit out of hand, a little weird even, and now I just want it to stop."

Malcolm's heart sank. This whole night was going so well. He thought she wanted to see _him!_ He thought this evening was about the two of them, but it wasn't! It was about the other that Travis Mayweather! Besides her parents, the only other person who would know what Hoshi liked as much as Malcolm did was Travis! Malcolm wanted to fucking punch a hole through the table. He cleared his throat, which all of a sudden felt really dry. He picked up his glass and sipped some wine very quickly, then spoke.

"Well uh, Hoshi… _Travis…_ probably just wanted to surprise you. I'm sure he uh, umh… didn't mean to creep you out or anything."

"Oh no," Hoshi said. "It's not Travis, I already asked him a few times. He assured me it wasn't him. It's not his style, said if he wanted to give me a gift, he'd do it in person so he could see the look on my face." Malcolm wanted to jump up and down and scream _"yahoo!"_ but he played it cool. Then he became concerned. If Travis wasn't sending her flowers and gifts and he wasn't sending her flowers and gifts, then who the hell was? He frowned.

"Hoshi, how many times have you gotten these gifts?" he asked, worry in his voice.

"Four, excluding the ones you sent. Twice when we docked at Jupiter station, once at Vulcan and once at the space station in the Alpha Quadrant.

"Hoshi! I don't like the sound of this at all!" Malcolm said. Hoshi didn't like the look of alarm on Malcolm's face. He could tell he was scaring her. He then reached over and put his hand over hers.

"Tell you what," he said. Why don't I go over to your ship with you and take a look at these gifts. Get some pictures and talk to your chief of security. I'm sure we can figure this out. We're going to also make sure you get no more unauthorized deliveries from anyone, okay?" Then he smiled a small smile at her. Hoshi smiled back at him.

"Thanks Malcolm," she said. He could tell she was feeling better already.

Malcolm did as he promised. He scanned the flowers and plants, her quarters, checked it for clues. Talked to security, and they put an alert and standing order for no unauthorized delivers to Hoshi in the future. Everything had to be pre-approved from now on.

Later.

"Okay Lt. Sato," Malcolm said as he was about to exit her quarters. "Everything seems to be in order. The station security as well as your ship's security is on high alert as to unauthorized communications and deliveries to you from now on. I've also alerted Starfleet's Chief of Security about these incidents, told them I consider them a potential threat."

"A potential threat?" Hoshi asked. "You said that, and just like that, I'm on their watch list?"

"Hoshi, love, I worked security for many years remember. My name still carries a little weight down there at headquarters you know, especially now with this designation behind it," he said pointing to his name badge." Hoshi smiled a little.

"I don't know how to thank you. I really was starting to feel a little frightened." Malcolm then reached for her hand.

"I wouldn't ever let anything happen to you," he said looking into her eyes. Hoshi felt a warm gush of " _something"_ rush through her body, but she was unsure what it was. It was a tense moment. Then there was a few moments of silence.

"Well, I guess I better head back over to Enterprise," he said letting go of her hand.

"Thanks Malcolm," she said. "I really do feel so much better."

"No, thank you," he replied, "for dinner I mean. It seemed like old times there for a little while. It felt good to talk…just to be in your company again." Then they stood there silent again just staring at one another.

"Okay," he finally said. "I will, uh, talk to you soon. Be safe." Then he turned to go, but she grabbed his hand this time.

"Malcolm," she said. He turned to face her. "I've…missed you."

"I've missed you too," he replied, looking into her eyes. Then there was more of that blasted silence! It was as if they didn't know what to do. She dropped his hand, and he turned to go again. He walked slowly toward the door and reached for the opener…but he didn't press it, his hand just hovered above it for a few moments. He could feel her staring at his back, just standing there staring and not saying anything. Then he turned and walked back toward her quickly. He grabbed her and kissed her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

They kissed deeply, hungrily, over and over again. It was as if they were starving for one another. They just couldn't stop devouring one another. And that warmth Hoshi had felt course through her body a few minutes ago when he touched her a few second ago, well, it had turned to fire!

"I love you," he said to her when they finally came up for air. "I have been in love with you for a long, long time and I never told you because I was scared. I was stupid and scared. I was an idiot and so afraid of, of, _everything_ ; the implications of love, what it meant emotionally, of commitment, of breaking the damned rules, what it meant for our careers. But I don't care about any of that now Hoshi. All I care about is you and you knowing how I feel about you!"

"Oh my God Malcolm!" Hoshi said as her eyes filled with tears. "I have waited so long to hear you say that. I've waited so long… I love you too, I do…I love you! I didn't want to love you anymore, and I tried to get over you, I did, but I couldn't. I couldn't! And I hated myself for loving you, but I still do! I still love you, I still love you!"

With that he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Their clothes seemed to find their way to the floor on their own as they continued to devour one another's mouth, touching and caressing one another. Soon their flesh merged into one, and they rocked it with a wild animal-like passion, no time for soft and sweet. It had been a long time for them, so it seemed like the first time. But it wasn't like an awkward, strange first time, because they had a rhythm which only took a few minutes for them to find again, and soon they were in sync, in perfect harmony.

He couldn't stop kissing her beautiful face and planting kisses all over her neck and shoulders and breasts. She couldn't stop holding onto him as if for dear life and biting into his biceps, triceps and pectoral muscles. Nor could she help but to cry out with tears of joy, or excitement, or ecstasy, she didn't know which. It was just… _hot._

He was not a noisy lover, other than occasionally to stop kissing her to tell her how delicious she tasted or that he loved her. And he would not deny her the words that he had long refused to award her with so many times before out of fear, not this time. The words that not only accompanied the act, but expressed the state of his heart, and he graciously and willingly bestowed them upon her. He owed her that, and she would have those words… _this time._

 ***Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, send a PM, fav, follow, comment or critique. I really appreciate it. Happy New Year to each of you!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The Next Morning.

Hoshi went running to Liz Cutler's quarters on Xfinity at 0700. She pressed the chime several times. Liz wondered who could be ringing her so early.

"Come," she said. Moments later, Hoshi entered the room.

"Hey Hoshi," Liz said. "You're back awfully early from leave. You did go didn't you? I know you didn't let Archer rope you into giving up your shore leave for a special assignment again did you? You've got to stop letting him do that to you."

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Hoshi said and sat on the bunk as Liz leaned against her desk with her arms folded in front of her.

"Well good. So, what's up?" Liz asked. "You seem to be beaming this morning." Hoshi blushed.

"Well," Hoshi began with a smile. "I have news."

"News! Well c'mon, spill it girl," Liz said and raced over and sat next to Hoshi on the bed. "What is it? What's happened? You're getting a promotion! Uh, you found out who your secret admirer is! You're getting a raise, a medal!"

"Liz!" Hoshi said, grabbing her friend's waving hands and holding them down. "Slow your roll and let me tell you, please."

"Okay, okay," Liz said with much anticipation, for she loved gossip.

"I had a date last night." Liz gasped, and punched Hoshi in the arm.

"A date! How you gonna have a date and not tell me!"

"Because it wasn't supposed to be a date, that's why. It was supposed to be dinner, that's all, just dinner. You know that whole thing with those gifts had started to scare me and I was trying to get to the bottom of it. I just wanted to find out if he was sending them. I wanted to look him in the eyes and see if he was going to lie to me. I would know if he was lying if I looked in his eyes."

"You're talking about Malcolm aren't you?!" Liz asked in amazement.

"Yes, _Malcolm_ ," Hoshi said as if it should have been obvious. Liz hit her again. Hoshi hit her back this time.

"Would you stop that?!" Hoshi said. But Liz hit her yet again.

"Unh, unh, aw hell no, I'm done! I'm finished with your ass," Liz said rising. "You go and have a date with Malcolm Reed and you don't tell me shit about it! After I spent the last year comforting your ass! You crying on my shoulder, sleeping in my bunk like you were my goddamned lover or something, and I'm talking about, _"It's okay Hoshi girl, no, you can sleep here"_ , knowing this bed was way too small for both our big asses! I'm listening to " _Liz, Malcolm left me for that red headed bitch from engineering",_ for a whole year! And you have a date with the man, and you don't tell me!"

"Liz, I'm sorry, I swear it wasn't like that. It just happened!"

Liz gasped. "You slept with him didn't you?!"

" _Liiiiz!_ " Then there was silence as Liz just stared at Hoshi wide eyed. Hoshi stared too, then she smiled a bit.

"He told me he loved me," she finally said softly.

"No!" Liz said. "He said it! He actually said it!" Hoshi smiled. "Oh my God Hoshi, oh that is so wonderful! That's so great!" Then she moved over and put her arms around her friend. And they sat there for a few moments, Liz's forehead leaning into the side of Hoshi's head as they embraced.

"What now?" Liz asked as they broke the embrace and Liz wiped away tears.

Hoshi shrugged. "We're not sure. I mean, with this war going on, and with us both being on different ships, it's kinda hard to say."

"Shit I know what I'd do. I'd resign my commission and just go for it."

"It's not that simple for Malcolm. He's got a strong sense of duty and commitment. He believes in seeing through what you start to the end. I feel that way too. As long as I'm able bodied, I wanna do my part. I mean, I have a unique skill, I don't wanna leave Starfleet, especially the Commodore, high and dry. I owe him a lot."

"Well, if that's how you both feel, but hey, I'm just glad for you guys! I'm just so glad! So now, c'mon, let's go to the station and let's go celebrate over a pancake and champagne breakfast. I'm buying, and I won't take no for an answer."

"Alright, let's do it," Hoshi said rising. And they exited the room arm in arm.

Later That Day.

Trip couldn't wait to catch up to Malcolm. He was dying to find out how his date with Hoshi went before they all left back for the front. He had been searching everywhere. He finally found Malcolm in the station's Chief of Security's office.

"Malcolm?" Trip said, "What gives? I been looking all over for you. You know I'm dying to know what happened last night!"

"All right," Malcolm said to the man he was speaking with. "If you would take care of that for me I would appreciate it."

"Certainly Captain Reed. If we find out anything we'll contact you immediately." Malcolm nodded at the man then gestured at Trip toward the exit.

"Hey, you gonna just keep ignoring me?" Trip asked.

"Come on," Malcolm said. "Let's go get a cup of coffee and talk." They headed for the nearest diner and grabbed a seat, then ordered a beverage.

"So how did it go," Trip asked.

"Fine," Malcolm said. Trip widened his eyes.

"Fine? Is that it? Things went fine!"

"Yes, they went fine," Malcolm said trying to remain cool.

"Sooo, you guys reach an understanding? Did you talk it out? You gonna see one another again? Did she forgive your dumb ass?"

"Trip, let's just say…we're…in a good place." Trip fell back in his seat just staring at Malcolm.

"Alright, alright. If you don't wanna tell me, that's cool. I understand. I'm not trying to get you to give me any personal details. I was just hoping that you guys could work it out that's all." Trip took a big swing of his coffee, then started to rap his fingers on the table. Malcolm very calmly sipped his tea, then all of a sudden started smiling, then grinning like a cat that swallowed the canary.

"You guys, you got back together didn't you!" Trip said with delight. "You got back together, didn't you, didn't you?!" Malcolm laughed a bit.

"Well, let me just say this, we're in a much, much better place. We reached an understanding so to speak. _And_ …I told her Trip. After all this time, I told her how I felt about her. I didn't hold anything back. I just said to hell with it all and I just said it."

"You mean you used the _"L"_ word Captain Reed?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"And it wasn't all that painful was it?"

"No. It was actually quite liberating and refreshing. It was really quite wonderful!"

"Well wonders never cease! I am so proud of you Mal. Congratulations! You've entered into a whole new world. What now?"

Malcolm blew out a sigh. "I'm not sure. We're still in the middle of a war you know, and Hoshi and I are serving on two different ships. We just had one night together after spending a year apart. We'll try to see one another as much as possible, every chance we get, whenever there's shore leave. We both realize that either of us can be killed in a battle at any time, so we're taking nothing for granted."

"I hear that," Trip said. "T'Pol and I are lucky. We've been successful so far manipulating Starfleet brass so we can keep serving on the same ship. She keeps turning down her promotion to Captain and Jon's helped, blocked her being rotated to another ship, but I don't know how long that's gonna hold. Every time we lose a ship, the need for more Captains arise. Starfleet really needs competent Captains out there and I don't know how long T'Pol can keep saying no or keep from being placed on another ship."

"Yes, well your situation is different from most. You two need to be on the same ship, because of your bond."

"Our bond is actually strong enough now that we could survive being separated. We just wouldn't want to be. You know Vulcan mates serve on the same ship, it's no big deal with them. There are a lot of species where couples serve on the same ship. Starfleet just need to get a clue."

"I actually understand the policy," Malcolm said. "I can see it being extremely distracting if something were to happen to your mate while the ship is under attack. Also, what happens if you're fighting, or you break up? I'm telling you Trip, when I was under assignment to wine and dine that damned Allison Wells and I was hurting Hoshi, I thought I was going to die. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. My gut hurt all the time. It was an impossible situation."

"I can only imagine," Trip started. Then he grabbed his head. "Awww shiiittt!" he said. "Not again, not now!"

"Trip?" Malcolm said, "Is it?"

"Fucking blinding headache!" he said, laying his head down on the table on his folded hands. "It'll pass in a few minutes… damn it!" he yelled banging his fist on the table. Then he pushed his cup of coffee off the table crashing it onto the floor and breaking it.

"Trip!" Malcolm said, "Just stay calm, don't get too excited. Do you need to go see Phlox?"

"No! I said it would pass in a minute!" Trip yelled loudly. The waiter hurried over.

"Is there a problem sir?" he asked looking at the broken dish now also on the floor as others guests had started to look on as well. "Do you need assistance?"

"No, I do not need any fucking assistance!" Trip yelled. "I just need to be left the hell alone for two fucking minutes, goddammit!"

"What is his problem?!" the waiter asked, raising his voice.

"Allergies," Malcolm answered, as he quickly paid he tab. "Here, off you go," he said rising and making sure to tip the young man generously then tried to convince Trip to leave with him. But suddenly, just as quickly as the episode had come, it was gone.

"I'm sorry," Trip said. "I'm okay now Mal. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, no real harm done. Come on, let's just get you out of here," Malcolm said as they left together.

Xfinity, Sick Bay.

T'Pol came into sickbay barely able to stand. Once inside she collapsed. After a couple of hours rest, she finally awakened. Phlox was at her side immediately running scans. She tried to sit up.

"Slowly, slowly," he said as he helped her.

"How long," she asked.

"A couple of hours," Phlox said with a slight frown, "this time. But Commander, this must stop."

"I will be fine doctor, as I have been each time before. How is your research coming with the new medication? And what of the experimental operation to reverse the damage?"

"I am still synthesizing the drug and it looks very promising. If it is successful as I hope it should prove far more effective. As far as the surgery is concerned you shouldn't hang your hat on that, it is a very radical and dangerous procedure. I am not even certain I would recommend it even under the worst of circumstances."

"I appreciate your concerns doctor, please keep me informed of all options. In the meantime, I will continue to do what I can."

"But this is very risky. You are not invincible and this is taking a toll on your neuro pathways. One day you may lose all control and where will either of you be?"

"This is my fault, therefore I must find a way to fix it."

"How many times do I have to tell you it is not your fault," Phlox replied.

"But the episodes have only become more pronounced since I suffered that concussion during our last battle.

"Yes, the blow to the head you endured certainly may have advanced the problem, but it is by no means the cause of it, and _you_ cannot fix it."

"Nevertheless, Captain Tucker needs my help. By helping him I help the ship. The ship needs its Captain, the crew needs him… _I_ need him."

"T'Pol, I urge you to stop this, you will be of no use to anyone if you lose yourself trying to save him."

"Doctor, I would gladly die to save him. Now I must go and see how he is. Thank you for your assistance."

"As you wish." Phlox said. "But you are going down a very slippery path Commander, a very slippery path indeed, and if it continues, and both you and Captain Tucker's health is threatened because of it, I will be forced to consult Commodore Archer if you refuse to speak to him your-selves. I will not violate doctor-patient confidentiality as long as you are able to maintain control of the situation by simply resting, but if you continue to put your health at risk and renders you unfit for duty, mark my words, I will do mine. Do I make myself clear Commander?"

"Perfectly," T'Pol said, nodded and exited sick bay.

Trip and T'Pol's Quarters, Intrepid.

T'Pol arrived at their quarters a short time later and greeted Trip with a kiss. "Hey where you been?" he asked. "I reached out for you, but couldn't find you," he said.

"I am sorry," she said. "I needed some time alone. So I went to the Vulcan embassy to meditate for a couple of hours," she lied. "I really needed the solitude. Please do not be upset with me."

"I'm not upset with you for taking care of yourself," he said. "But I wasn't here, you coulda meditated here." T'Pol didn't respond.

Trip sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. "I had an episode today," he said, "and it was bad."

"I am aware of that," she replied.

"I was in a public place too…so thanks for helping out. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't. Wasn't too rough on you was it?"

"No," T'Pol lied again. "I was a bit unsettled, but my meditation helped tremendously."

"Think I'm gonna ask Phlox to adjust my meds again. Those headaches are killers, and I could feel myself about to explode. Things went completely black for a few seconds too. What if that happens when I'm on the bridge in the middle of a battle or something?"

"I will be there to help you," T'Pol said.

"But what if Starfleet starts pressuring you to take your own ship again. It would make sense. You really should be commanding your own ship you know."

"That is of no consequence," she replied. "I am here with you now and this is where I belong." Trip lowered his head for a moment, rubbing his temples.

"I don't know hon, are you sure about all this? Sometimes it seems hard enough for you to maintain your own control you know after… the whole Trellium D thing," he said with concern in his voice. "How can you keep trying to maintain control for two people?"

"I am fine," she replied. "Besides, I only need assist you under extreme circumstances, such as what happened today."

"I don't want you hurting yourself."

"I am fine. Trust me, I know what I am doing. Why were you attempting to locate me earlier?" she asked, changing the subject quickly.

"Oh, right," he said with a big smile, "I wanted to tell you about Malcolm and Hoshi. They're back together! They're actually back together, after all this time!" He sat on the bed and watched T'Pol as she slid out of her uniform. She didn't seem the least bit interested in the good news he was trying to share about their friends. After he got no reaction out of her, he frowned.

"Babe, what is it?" he asked. "You okay? I was trying to tell you that Malcolm and Hoshi made up."

"Yes, I heard you," T'Pol replied. "I think that is… most agreeable news."

"Most agreeable?" Trip frowned. "C'mon darlin', this is major! Can't you do a little better than most agreeable?" Suddenly he felt a wave of exhaustion course through his body.

"Hey," he said. "What gives? Why are you so tired? I thought you said you were okay."

"I have not slept well these last few nights," T'Pol replied. "I need to meditate a bit more. Perhaps, rest will come easier this evening."

"Okay," he said warily. "Well, I have a few things I wanna check out on the bridge and in engineering. Be back in a couple of hours." Then he walked over and kissed her on the forehead and left their quarters.

When he had gone, she grabbed her head, stumbled over to the bed and collapsed on top of it. After a few minutes, a fitful sleep claimed her.

 ** _*_ _Author's Note: I want to give a shout out to LoyaulteMeLie, who was gracious enough to beta read the next few chapters for me. I really appreciate it! Also, updates may slow down to every two-three days as alas, vacation is over and it's back to the halls of justice for me (work). Thanks to all! Bri._**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The Next Morning.

Conference Room, Xfinity.

The Captains of Shadow Company were set to meet with Commodore Archer for a briefing before heading back out to the war zone. He had new orders and strategies that he needed to share with his team. It was an impressive team too.

"Hello everyone," Erica said as she entered the conference room. They all stood and greeted her. Even though they held the same rank, Erica was the longest standing Captain on the team and had more experience than the others. She was also a little older and everyone knew, or suspected, that she was the Commodore's woman so that garnered her a measure of respect as well.

"For heaven's sake sit down," she said waving her hand at them. "The Commodore is on his way so just relax for a few minutes. Everybody's repairs look okay Trip?"

"Oh yeah," he replied. Even though he was no longer the ranking officer on Jupiter Station and not officially responsible for repairs, the new Chief of Engineering on the station valued his opinion as did everyone else. "Chief Reynolds let me tag along on the final inspection tour of everybody's ship. So no worries, everything is in tip-top shape."

"That's comforting," Jena Winslet, Captain of the Essex replied. "My ship took a beating in that last battle." Jena had only been promoted to Captain just three months ago. She was tall, shapely, and quite beautiful. But she was as tough as they came and could hold her own in the ring as a kick-boxer and in aikido.

"Relax Jena," Martin Russet of the Star Gazer grinned, leaning in her direction. "If Tucker said your ship is top rate, you can take that to the bank. I'm sure the boys got all the dents out, shined your baby up for you," he said making a hand gesture as if he were slowly polishing something while some of the others made various sounds, "and made her as nice and pretty as you are."

"Give it a rest Russet," Jena snapped. "That crap isn't cute or funny you Neanderthal."

"Now that wasn't sweet at all" Russet replied still grinning. "At least not coming from you CBQ." That was the nickname some of the men had assigned Jena, "Captain Beauty Queen," and of course she had heard it.

"Shut your face you idiot motherfu..." Jena started.

"Okay, that's enough," Erica interrupted. "Martin, save your lines for some of those trashy kittens down at the bar next to the 602 club." Everybody laughed at that. "And Jena, lighten up will ya?"

"Sure, no problem," Martin said and mouthed a kiss at Jena, who raised a finger at him.

"Good afternoon everyone," Jon said as he and Hoshi entered the room. They all stood to greet him. "Take your seats and let's get down to business." Hoshi assisted him with passing out pads, then she left the room.

"Is this right sir?" Mark Phillips, Captain of Columbia asked after a few minutes. "We're really gonna be out there for 60 days, with no relief?" All of the captains looked up at Jon.

"It appears so Mark," Jon replied. "We're going out to relieve Team Apollo, only," and he

hesitated, "there's not much to relieve. Echo Team is out there now lending a hand, and that's

why we're shipping out early. Apollo has only two ships left."

"Two ships! Only two! Just two ships left out of ten!" they all started commenting at the same time. Jon stood up and held his hand out.

"Hold on, hold on," he said, and the room started to quiet down. He looked around at his team. "I'm sorry. I know you had friends and colleagues on those ships that were lost. This is a tragic time for us."

"Were there any survivors from the eight ships that were lost?" Malcolm asked. They all looked at Jon. He lowered his head for a moment, trying not to show his distress of what he was about to inform them.

"Some of the crew made it out in escape pods. But apparently, there was a warp core breach of one of the other ships and…." Some of the Captains lowered their heads, others looked away while others tried to fight back tears. "Also, one of the ships, the Baltimore, tried to chase down a ship that had retreated from the battle. We don't think it was Romulan, or perhaps it was a drone. But that ship turned and attacked our ship…took it out, along with the remaining escape pods."

"Oh God!" Erica said. "That's awful." Then they all began to mutter and talk at the same time again. Some whispered quiet prayers.

"That's why we have new orders," Jon said. "First of all, I'm going to be integrating the surviving ships from Apollo into Shadow Company. I'm also going to be taking over Echo Team as well, after their shore leave." Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Next, and this may be hard for some of you to understand, but the decision has been made. The new protocol in situations like this one, where enemy ships are retreating from the battle scene and our people are in mission critical mode….is to stand down."

"Stand down?" Trip asked as his head shot up. "You mean, we let 'em go?"

"Commodore, you mean if we've been attacked, ambushed, and we've got the enemy on the run, we're not to pursue?" Jena asked.

"If our ships are mission critical, then no, we are not to pursue," Jon replied.

"Commodore, with all due respect," Mark Phillips started. "I understand this is a major tragedy losing our ships, all of our people, good people. But Sir, I knew Ben Stewart of the Baltimore, the ship you said tried to run that bastard down that was trying to get away, and, and Ben would have gladly given his life… _did_ give his life apparently in defense of the mission; in defense of our people. And I'm having a hard time seeing myself sitting on the bridge of Columbia," and Mark hesitated and swallowed hard, then continued, his face contorted. "What I'm saying sir is that I can't see myself sitting there, _gazing_ out the view screen watching the enemy who just killed all my friends, colleagues, my family… just run away!"

With that they all started to talk again, argue, shout, agreeing with Mark, who was usually quiet and reserved. Never so passionate that he was almost moved to tears.

"I'd have done the same damned thing!" Trip said rising. "And if it cost me my life so be it! We can't let these bastards get away with something like that! That's ridiculous Commodore, its crazy! It just doesn't make any sense! I'm sure Ben knew what he was doing! He died doing his job! So would any of us under the circumstances! I know I would! That's what we're out here for, for the mission! For the job, to fight the damned enemy, not to let them go flying off into the goddamned sunset!"

"Captain Tucker!" Jon said sternly. "Sit down and shut up! You are out of order!" At first Trip just stared at Jon. Then he slowly took his seat.

"I'm sorry sir," he said through his teeth. "But I want you to know that I don't agree with that strategy. I don't think it would be appropriate to ever let an enemy ship return to its base after attacking us to claim victory. They'd only gain more confidence by their actions and think they can get away with it in the future."

"You're objections are duly noted Captain, but the order stands! Anybody else?" Jon said looking around. No one else rose to the challenge. They knew how Archer could be and if he just shot Trip down, they didn't stand a chance.

"All right then, meeting adjourned," he said. With that they all quickly and abruptly rose and left the room.

Two Months Later.

SDC had been in key war zones now for over six weeks and had seen several hard fought battles. Everyone's nerves were frayed and they were in desperate need of relief. When they finally received word that they were being relieved, it was not a moment too soon. But shit happens and while on their way back to Jupiter station, the company was attacked by several Romulan war birds along with a few unidentified ships recruited by the Romulans, perhaps Nausicaan, and Orion ships, sympathetic to the Romulan cause.

All of the SDC ships were busy in a full scale bloody battle and it wasn't looking good.

"You gotta be kiddin' me!" Trip said as he watched a squadron of small, single person manned ships, similar to shuttle crafts, come from behind a nearby planet and began attacking them. There were at least thirty of them.

The fleet seemed to be startled at first at this swarm of mini ships that were fully loaded and packing a punch, which came out guns blazing and flying all around. They immediately attacked SDC's smaller warp three vessels sending two of them hurdling into a nearby moon and crashing into a thousand pieces. Everyone was stunned.

Several of the Captains were encircled by the small ships which assaulted them with their phase weapons. The larger ships tried firing back, but the smaller ships were so fast they just whizzed by like bees. That's when Jon opened up a line.

"Back off," he directed his ships. "Get out of their cocoons, spread out, now! Then fire photon torpedoes at the little bastards!" The ships started to do as directed and started to take control of the battle.

But after having its engines pummeled over and over again by the small ships, fire erupted on the Tuscany. The engineers worked frantically to put it out when a war bird emerged onto the battle scene with their weapons charged and immediately fired upon the Tuscany targeting those very same engines. Intrepid quickly engaged the war bird to draw it away but it was too late, a warp core breach was inevitable.

"Engineering to Commander Hess!" Jon called out over the comm of Xfinity. "Commander Hess…"

"Hess here Commodore!"

"Anna!" Jon shouted. "Get their Chief Engineer on the line, help them shut that breach down, now!"

"I'm sorry sir, but all their systems have failed. That breach is inevitable! All they can do is abandon ship!"

"Abandon ship, abandon ship!" the comm officer kept repeating throughout the Tuscany. "Crew to escape pods, crew to escape pods!" All the while the computer kept repeating, "Warp core breach in 18 minutes… warp core breach in 17 minutes, warp core breach in 16 minutes…"

Suddenly, escape pods began to fill the air.

The Tuscany was lost.

The battle however continued as three more war birds arrived on the scene. Then, Essex was cornered by two Orion ships. Enterprise and Star Gazer quickly hurried to her aid.

"Captain Winslet, hold on!" Martin said, "Hold on, help is on the way," he said. "Phase cannons Mr. Stevens, now!" He yelled. "Blast that son-of-a-bitch to hell!"

"Target their engines," Malcolm ordered, "full photon torpedo blast! And we need to make a major impression. She's in trouble!" But it was too late. A few minutes later, the Essex exploded in a ball of fire.

"Nooooo!" Martin yelled as he watched in horror.

Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment, not believing what he was seeing. Enterprise then aggressively and relentlessly gave chase after the enemy ship responsible for destroying Captain Jena Winslet along with her entire crew.

It was utter chaos.

Next, Columbia sustained significant damage; it too was facing a warp core breach. Sadly, Columbia's Captain, Mark Phillips was killed when he was impaled by a rod as the bridge took a hit.

But Xfinity, Intrepid, Star Gazer, Enterprise, along with the remaining ships in SDC, found new strength in the battle. They banned together and made a vigilant stand against these killers. They brought a fire storm like they had never done before and was able to get control of this hell before another ship was lost. By the time the Starfleet contingent was finished, only two enemy vessels remained and they decided that they had had enough.

The remaining Shadow Company Captains sat or stood on the bridge of their ships staring out in the atmosphere at the battle scene. There was mangled and torn metal left over from the ships that had been destroyed, both friend and foe. Plasma exhaust, blue and black smoke filled the atmosphere causing the sky to appear like a smoldering furnace. Other debris filled the air as well, but it was difficult to make out what it all was. Starfleet ships hung in the air now and escape pods seemed to be floating all around. It was a disturbing scene.

Shadow Company had seen the Essex and the Tuscany explode into nothingness. They had seen two of their three small warp three vessels hurl down onto the nearby moon and crash into a thousand pieces. Columbia and now Enterprise was badly damaged and two of their finest Captains were dead along with many other officers and crew members. Others were badly injured, some permanently. And all that Starfleet's commanding officers could do, was watch the enemy fly away.

Malcolm's anger boiled over, and he banged his fist into the command chair's console. Martin Russet yelled and cursed the damned Romulans and Orions to hell! Erica watched the enemy ships flying away and blinked back tears for the dead, but also out of anger and frustration as well. She was fighting every instinct within her to strike back. Travis watched from the bridge of Columbia as the medics carried away the body of Captain Mark Phillips, and was fighting his own instincts to launch a counter attack, and to hell with orders. His Captain and friend was dead. Jon watched the scene for a few moments along with everyone else, then ordered, almost drone-like, for the rescue operations to begin.

Trip sat on the bridge of his ship on the very edge of his command chair, red faced and shaking. T'Pol sat at the Science Station watching him out of the corner of her eye. He felt like he was about to jump out of his skin, and T'Pol could feel it too. She touched her forehead and wiped the sweat from her brow. It seemed as if Trip was about to blow a gasket. He and Jon had disagreed about the strategy is this type of situation. He was certain Archer was wrong. But in the end, he had closed his mouth and followed orders. Now they were faced with the very scenario that they had so sharply disagreed about and Trip was fighting every instinct within him to

do what his gut was telling him to do; his control was slipping badly and he was losing the battle in his attempts at maintaining it and T'Pol was too weak to help at the moment.

Trip just kept watching the last two enemy ships fly further and further away. He was so angry at the moment. They had lost four ships. Jena and Mark were dead, countless others injured, yet, there he sat, fuming, boiling over as the enemy flew away to safety; to live to fight another day. Really? He saw red, then black…then rage! Suddenly, Intrepid broke loose and went charging through the debris of what was left from the battle.

"Where's he going? What the hell does he think he's doing?" Jon shouted. He pressed the comm. "Captain Tucker! Captain Tucker, respond!"

"Lieutenant!" he said spinning around to face Hoshi while holding his damaged, bleeding right arm. "Get him on the line!"

"I'm sorry sir," she replied quickly, "too much damage. All systems are down."

"Damn it!" John shouted. He banged on the comm. "Trip! Trip! Get back here! Trip!" He then turned to Lt. Fraizer at opps. "Get to engineering, tell Commander Wales that I need the comm operating or I need warp in the next few minutes or don't bother to show up for work tomorrow!"

"Aye sir," Fraizer said, leapt from her seat and raced for engineering.

Suddenly, Jon flipped out his communicator. "Xfinity to Intrepid! Captain Tucker, respond!" But there was only static. A few moments later, the Intrepid could be seen catching up to the two remaining Orion ships that had attacked them and survived the battle. They were now on the run, but apparently, one of the Starfleet Captains was not satisfied that the battle was over.

Intrepid let loose a volley of particle cannon fire at the first ship then did not hesitate to do the same upon the already damaged sister ship. The first ship veered off to the left and attempted to come about only to be met head on by Intrepid. For a few minutes, it seemed as if the two ships would crash directly into one another while the second ship limped just behind Intrepid. Suddenly, Intrepid did a nose dive and a flip that surely caused more than a few of its members to lose their lunch as well as cause a few broken bones and concussions. Hopefully, that was all.

Intrepid was relentless in its attack though. It recovered quickly from its wild maneuver, which led everyone to believe that Trip had to be doing the flying himself, and continued firing upon the badly damaged enemy vessel. It rendered a merciless particle cannon assault at the Orion ship's engines as it flew by, took a bow and kept it moving. A few minutes later, the ship burst into flames and blew apart. Intrepid then quickly latched onto the other Orion ship with a grappler and captured it as it tried to limp away. Shortly afterwards, Trip had his security team board the ship and take prisoners.

But Jon was furious. Yes, Trip had saved the day. He was the celebrated hero of the battle and everyone was slapping him on the back, congratulating him and ready to hang a medal around his neck. He had avenged the deaths of so many and helped them leave that god-forsaken place, that terrible, horrific battleground with some semblance of victory. Everyone was still in a lot of pain from the losses they had suffered and they would grieve those losses very hard, for some time. But because of Trip's actions, at least they could draw a small measure of comfort at knowing those responsible... had paid. Nevertheless, when they got back to Jupiter Station, Jon had him arrested and thrown in the brig.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

24 Hours Later.

Malcolm's Ready Room, Enterprise.

"You have to tell Commodore Archer the truth," Malcolm said to T'Pol. They had been assigned the task of interrogating the Orion prisoners that Trip had captured and had just completed the assignment.

"Doing so will be career ending for Trip," T'Pol replied.

"T'Pol, what do you think this is? Trip disobeyed a direct order, he's is in the brig! He's going to be court martialed!"

"I am aware of that. I-I need to think."

"There is nothing to think about," Malcolm replied. "Perhaps if the Commodore knows the truth it can mitigate the situation. You know he can be very understanding at times."

"Yes, that is true," T'Pol said. "He can also be quite unreasonable and obstinate."

"Not when it comes to Trip," Malcolm said. "He's always been willing to help out. You just have to be straight with him. He hates it when you hide things from him. Take it from me."

"Perhaps it is for the best," T'Pol said. "Perhaps it is time for both of us to leave all of this behind us."

"You know that's not what Trip wants and I don't think you do either. Besides, no one wants to leave like this. I'm sure Trip would want to leave on his own terms. We need to give him that opportunity. Now tell him, or I will."

"No! It is not your place, nor responsibility! Trip would be infuriated! You need to allow me to handle it."

Malcolm blew out a long sigh. "All right," he replied. "Handle it then."

Malcolm left T'Pol with her thoughts and transported over to Jupiter Station on his way to meet with Commodore Archer. He was met by the Captain of Star Gazer, Martin Russet, Mayweather and several other officers from Shadow Company.

"Reed, what gives?" Martin asked. "Is Archer really gonna go through with this? He really gonna court martial Trip?"

Malcolm blew out another sigh. "He's still got him on lock down," he said. "That's all I know for now."

"Have you seen him or talked to him?" Travis asked. "Did he tell you anything?"

"No Travis. I'm not Chief of Security. I didn't have the pleasure of arresting my best friend."

"But you're close to Archer," the Chief Engineer of Jupiter Station, Reynolds, said. "Surely you know something. What have you been doing for the last four hours?"

"I've been on a special assignment," Reed spat.

"Look Malcolm," Martin said getting closer to _Enterprise's_ captain. "This is bullshit! There's no way Trip should be locked up! None of us agreed with Archer's orders, he just did what none of us had the guts to do!"

"Don't you think I know that," Malcolm snapped. "But what do you expect me to do?"

"I expect you to do _something_!" Martin shouted at Reed. "To stand up for your friend!"

"And I expect you to get the hell out of my face!" the Englishman shouted back pushing Russet off of him.

"Stop it!" Travis said, getting between the two men. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Malcolm, we all just want to help. We were all out there and we saw what happened. None of those pods were in harm's way when Trip went after those ships."

"Yeah, Britton said that her ship had already transported at least fifteen of those pods," Martin added.

"And the XO of the _Berringer_ , what's his name," Travis said, "Cooper… he said that they had transported 10 and had a lock on five more of those guys who had already started to materialize in their transporter.

"And there were plenty of us to help out with the rescue," someone else added.

"I think from where the Commodore was situated maybe he couldn't see things playing out the same way some of us could," Travis explained further.

"That may be all well and good" Malcolm replied. "And I plan to speak to the Commodore. But this is a total mess! Trip disobeyed a direct order, just what the hell am I supposed to say?"

"Tell him what we just said, what we all saw," Travis replied. "Look…sir! My Captain died out there, and I for one and damned glad that Trip did what he did! Those bastards had to pay!"

"And Jena…she's _dead_ man… just gone," Martin said with moist eyes. "No way, no way those goddamned ships were supposed to just fly off into the sunset."

"Yeah, Trip deserves a fucking medal, he doesn't deserve to get court martialed," one of the other captains said.

"I agree," Travis said firmly. "He doesn't deserve to be thrown in jail like some criminal!"

"And I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that he isn't," Malcolm said. "Are you all willing to speak to the Commodore about this, to testify on Trip's behalf at a hearing if it comes to that," Malcolm asked looking around at everyone. "It's not enough to complain about it to me, you've got to be willing to come forward. Now are you willing to do that? To put your necks on the chopping block?"

"Yes!" Travis said without hesitation.

"For goddamned sure," Martin agreed.

"I wasn't there," Reynolds said, "but I'll testify as a character witness, however I can help."

"Me too! Sure! Count me in," the others all agreed.

"All right," Reed said. "I have to meet with the Commodore now. I'll speak to him, and I'll let you know how it goes. But be prepared, if this doesn't work…Trip is going to need all the support he can get." With that, he turned on his heels and he was off.

Later.

A short while later Malcolm appeared on the bridge of _Xfinity_. He greeted Captain Hernandez and she gave him permission to enter the Commodore's ready room as he was waiting to hear from Reed.

"Come in," Archer barked, still dealing with the unpleasant events of the day before.

"Commodore," Malcolm started.

"Captain Reed," Jon said.

"T'Pol and I have finished interrogating the Orions from the ship _Captain Tucker captured_." Jon looked up at Malcolm who seemed to emphasize the last part of his sentence. "It took some _persuading_ if you will. But I think you'll find the intel quite useful, Sir."

"What did you find out?" Jon asked.

"It's all here Commodore," Malcolm said, placing a data disk on Jon's desk. "The Orions' contact, their mission to destroy the star base and how they knew where our contingent would be located and when."

"Good job Malcolm," Jon said, "I'll view it right away. Dismissed." But Malcolm didn't move.

"A moment of your time Sir," he said instead. Jon looked up at him and hesitated for a moment.

"Go ahead," Jon replied.

"I'm sorry, but…but"

"But what? Spit it out man!" Archer said getting annoyed.

"Permission to speak freely sir."

"Go ahead."

"With all due respect Commodore, but I don't think the brig is the right place for Captain Tucker right now. Not under the circumstances."

"Oh?" Jon said with a frown. "And what may I ask might those circumstances be?"

"Well, sir, Trip's… not himself… actually…he's in a bad way."

"What do you mean by that Malcolm," Jon asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say. But I do know that he's not himself."

"Well, that sure as hell doesn't give me a lot to go on! If there's something wrong with Trip that's making him act a fool, and disobey direct orders, then I suggest you start talking Captain!"

"Commodore, I really am not in a position to say, but if you could speak to him sir. There _is_ something you need to know." Archer leaned back in his seat and stared at Reed.

"Look Malcolm, I know you and Trip are close," he began. "And I'm sure I know what your views are about my standing order."

"Yes sir. I agree with Trip and everyone else," Malcolm replied. "And I think what happened today proved that point. Had Trip not gone after those ships, they would have made it back to their base. They would have just gotten away with attacking and successfully destroying our star base, with destroying four of our ships, killing three of our captains and many valuable crew members. I don't agree with that strategy."

"We had ships down, crewmen injured and in need of immediate assistance. The battle was over, those ships were retreating! There was no continued threat of harm!"

"And no retribution for their action…"

"This was not the time for retribution!" Archer said raising his voice, his face contorted as he tried to reign in his anger. "At least not at the moment! _Columbia_ was facing a warp core breach, The _Essex_ and _Tuscany_ had been totally destroyed and forty-nine escape pods were floating in the atmosphere Malcolm. What Trip did put those people's lives in further danger as well as delay critical, immediate assistance to _Columbia_. It was just fortunate that Anna Hess knows a thing a two about preventing warp core breaches and was able to get over there on a shuttle pod just in time to help shut down the breach!"

"Commodore, there are several others who are of the opinion that the pods were not in any immediate danger. That _Berringer_ already had recovered many of them and the Star Gazer had a lock on several others. In addition, I can appreciate Commander Hess' efforts, she's a great engineer. But preventing warp core breaches is within the scope of her duties isn't it sir?" Malcolm knew he was getting dangerously close to crossing the line, but he forged ahead anyway. "Where is it written that Trip is solely responsible for shutting down every warp core breach that occurs?"

"Sure, I get it Malcolm! Everyone is glad Trip killed those sons of bitches that attacked and killed our people, everybody is elated that he captured the other ship. But damn it!" Archer shouted rising and slamming his hand down on the desk, "lives _could_ have been lost because Trip decided to disobey my goddamned order! And yes, sure, everything worked out just fine, this time! But orders are orders, and Captain Tucker decided that he didn't have to follow a direct order from his superior officer!"

Malcolm had to fight hard to maintain is composure. After all he was speaking to his commanding officer. He swallowed hard, "Sir," he began, red faced and almost shaking, "there are several officers willing to speak on Trip's behalf…willing to speak to you regarding this situation; about what really happened out there during the battle; to testify, if it comes to that."

"Are they now?" Archer said, his eyes glaring and veins popping out of his neck as he leaned against his desk. "Look Malcolm, there was a time I probably would have done something just as reckless! Well, I'm not in a position to behave that way anymore! Too much is at risk!"

"What about the intel we received as a result of Trip's actions," Malcolm shot back a little more forcefully than he meant to, his face getting redder and redder as he spoke. "Was obtaining that worth the risk? Once you've seen it, you might have a different opinion… _sir!_ " Then he stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back, raising his chin a bit.

Before Archer could say more, his door chime went off. At first he ignored it, but whoever it was, was relentless. _"Come In!"_ he finally shouted.

T'Pol stepped through the door. By the way she looked, both Archer and Reed could tell she was unsettled, and if they could tell it, she was obviously in a bad way. She and Reed exchanged glances, and Malcolm knew it was his time to retreat.

"With your permission, I'll be going Commodore," Malcolm said. Archer looked at T'Pol, and back at Malcolm. "However, I would like an opportunity to speak with you further about this if necessary sir."

"Alright, dismissed Captain," he finally said to Reed watching T'Pol as she walked up to his desk.

"Aye Sir," Malcolm replied and turned to leave.

"May I have a word with you Commodore?" T'Pol asked, hands clasped behind her back.

"Yes, of course," Archer said, a bit of an edge still in his voice from his argument with Malcolm. "Have a seat." T'Pol remained standing however, barely able to hide her distress from her commanding officer.

"Commodore, what Captain Tucker did on the battlefield may not have been in accordance with protocol, but he successfully destroyed an enemy vessel, and captured another. He has also provided us with valuable intel. Intel that Starfleet would not have obtained but for his actions. I am requesting that… I was hoping that this would mitigate your decision regarding his continued incarceration."

"T'Pol," Archer began. "I cannot believe that you of all people would come in here, trying to beg for leniency for someone who has clearly violated a direct order, based upon nothing more than… than your feelings for the man!"

"That is inappropriate Commodore!"

"Is it?"

"I make my appeal to you based upon fact, not emotional feelings" T'Pol said, her facial expression unchanging. Then she hesitated. "However… there is a highly unusual set of circumstances that should be taken in consideration. But I assure you, incarceration is the last thing Trip needs. It, it will not help him, it will only cause further …deterioration to an already delicate situation."

"What are you saying T'Pol?" Jon asked squinting his eyes at her.

"Commodore," she said with a sound of desperation in her voice. "He is perfectly capable of performing his duties, it's just that…"

"Just spill it T'Pol!" Jon interrupted rising abruptly. "If something's going on you should have come to me long before now! When will you and Trip learn that you can trust me, that keeping secrets are not only unnecessary but totally illogical!" T'Pol raised both eyebrows at that.

"Now what the hell is going on? If you're not willing to tell me the whole truth and nothing but the truth, I can't help you, can't help him! Now are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I-I need to speak to him first," T'Pol said. "I am not in a position to divulge this information without his consent."

"Then you're wasting my time!" Jon said.

"If you would allow me to see him," she replied, with a look in her eyes that was practically begging. "It has been over 24 hours."

"I'm not granting him visitors, not even you," he told her with a stern look on his face. "Not yet anyway."

"For how long, if I may ask?"

"For as long as I see fit!" Archer barked. "T'Pol don't you get it? Can't you see how serious this is? Can't anyone? I've let Trip get away with a lot of things over the years, cut him a lot of slack, but this…he's gone too far this time! I can't ignore this!"

"Even if there were extenuating circumstances?" the Vulcan asked in a low voice that cracked slightly when she spoke.

"That depends on the circumstances," Jon replied. "But if you won't tell me what those circumstances are, then we're back to square one aren't we?"

Just then the door chimed again. Who else had come to challenge Archer's decision to put Trip in the brig? It was Phlox. "Come in," Archer snapped, then plopped back in his chair and put his hand to his forehead.

"Commodore, we need to talk," Phlox said with concern in his voice. "Alone," he said looking over at T'Pol.

Archer looked at T'Pol. "Dismissed," he said.

"Commodore!" she started.

"I said dismissed!" he barked. He was really getting tired of people ignoring his orders today. T'Pol slowly turned on her heels to exit. She turned back and looked at her superior officer before she did and then at Phlox.

"Doctor…" she began. But Phlox put up his hand and shook his head at her. She knew what that meant and what the doctor was about to do. T'Pol closed her eyes, hung her head, then turned again toward the exit and slowly walked toward it. She stopped in front of the door for a moment as if she were about to turn around and make another plea, then she opened the door and went through it.

"What can I do for you doctor," Jon asked. "Wait, let me guess, you heard about me throwing Trip in the brig, right?"

"As a matter of fact I did, and it concerns me greatly."

"Look Phlox, Malcolm's been in here telling me that poor Trip doesn't deserve to be in the brig. That he's got a situation, but he's not at liberty to say what that is. T'Pol comes in here next telling me Trip's operating under unusual circumstances, but refuses to say more. Now if you've come here to tell me that Captain Tucker isn't himself, or he's got a situation, but you can't tell me anymore, you're wasting your time…"

"No Commodore," Phlox said holding up both hands and taking a seat in front of Archer's desk.

"He does in fact have a condition and I'm afraid it has begun to affect him to the point where I believe I must consult you about it."

"What? What's wrong with him this time?"

"The parasite infection from last year."

"I thought you cured him of that."

"Yes, the infection itself is cured. The parasites were successfully destroyed. Unfortunately, so were certain areas of Captain Tucker's frontal lobe."

" _What?"_ Jon said with alarm in his voice, "Are you suggesting… _brain damage_?"

"Yes Commodore." For a few seconds Jon looked very concerned. He ran his hand over his face and straighten up in his chair before speaking further.

"Can you reverse it?" he finally asked with a frown.

"No, not this time."

"So, what's his prognoses? What now? Is he fit for duty?"

"His prognoses is not terminal. But it is not promising either over the long term. In the short term, his personality will be affected by this brain damage and will continue to be so. Currently he is experiencing episodes of unprovoked anger and aggression as he did when he was infected by the parasites and difficulty controlling certain impulses."

"Is he capable of following orders?"

"He is and he isn't."

"What does that mean?"

"In certain situations he may have the desire to follow orders but he will be unable to control his impulses, fueled by his anger or his judgement will be impaired at times."

"In other words he can't be trusted to follow orders; he's not fit for duty."

"I don't believe his condition has deteriorated that far yet. I am treating him with medication and T'Pol is helping with meditation and uh, mind melds, to help him maintain control, to help him stay balanced. But she will not be able to continue doing that. The result could be harmful to her neuropathways as well."

Jon sat back in his chair. "So why the hell didn't they just tell me?"

"Because they were afraid of the implications Commodore. Many times a diagnosis like this is career ending. In addition, they believed that you had quite enough to deal with, enough of your own stressors, both personal and professional to contend with."

"That's beside the point," Jon replied. "I should have been told!"

"Commodore, the term "brain damage" carries a stigma and speculation about whether a person can truly function properly mentally and emotionally. It matters not what medical reassurances are given, there's always that nagging question in the back of everyone's mind. And the first time a mistake is made or some error occurs, the condition is blamed and a person's health is questioned."

"But if you tell me he's able to do his job, that's good enough for me."

"Is it Commodore? And will Starfleet Command see it that way?" Archer lifted both eyebrows, opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it.

"So doctor, are you saying to me that Trip may have done what he did yesterday because he was unable to control his impulses?"

"That may well be true."

"Then that means he's unable to obey orders. Which means he's not fit for duty."

"Or it may mean that he was over tired, distressed, in need of medication adjustment, meditation and rest. He needs to be very careful, he has to take care of himself at a very high level now, and I am committed to helping him do that. I have briefed his ship's doctor on how to care for him, and I will see him whenever I can."

"Phlox, we're all over tired, distressed, in need of more rest and could probably take better care of ourselves! I don't see how that makes any difference! I need a straight answer!" Jon finally said out of frustration.

"On the contrary, it makes a great deal of difference in this situation. And the best answer I can give is that Captain Tucker has a significant brain injury that causes him to experience irresistible impulses. He will have to learn to control these impulses. Hopefully with medication and other methods, he will be able to do so over time. If he is successful, he can continue serving on his ship. If not, he will have to leave within the next year as his condition will continue to deteriorate, perhaps sooner."

"How much sooner?"

"We may have already begin to see changes in him," Phlox explained, "When T'Pol experienced a concussion a couple of months ago during a battle, it ended up affecting him more than her. It acerbated the condition. That's precisely why I'm here."

"Great, just great," Jon said running his hand over his eyes. "So were you planning on relieving him of duty?"

"I need to examine him to make that determination."

"Phlox, if Trip can't control his impulses, and he's prone to fly off the handle at any time and pull crazy, dangerous stunts like he did today, lives could be at stake! What are you talking about, you have to relieve him of duty, don't you?"

"Not necessarily, not yet anyway. I need more time to study his condition. I am still hopeful that I can successfully treat him for a time anyway, and that he can learn how to manage his condition better. We are currently on leave for 45 days are we not? This is a perfect opportunity. I can conduct my research and Mr. Tucker can spend this time working on the exercises he needs to learn; how to manage stress, how to meditate at a higher level, anger management, how to suppress his emotions."

"In other words, he's really going to have to become a Vulcan now," Jon said sarcastically.

"In a sense, yes," the doctor replied. "But he need not be formally relieved of duty as he won't need to have interaction with his crew or be responsible for making any major decisions right now. But I would advise against his continued incarcerated. I do believe that environment and added stressor would only aggravate the situation."

John fell back in his chair wrapping his fingers on his desk, considerably calmer now. "Yes, but I still have to address what he did. How do I do that doctor, under these facts?"

"That is why you are in charge Commodore," Phlox answered. "I am sure you will figure something out. I would like to see Captain Tucker now, with your permission of course."

Archer blew out a sigh. "Of course doctor." He then had Trip escorted to sick bay to see Phlox. When the exam was done, Jon had Trip and T'Pol meet him in his ready room and lit into both of them about keeping Trip's condition secret. Then they discussed what it meant for the future.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

16:00 hours. That Same Day.

Trip was finally released from the brig, but that wasn't the end of it. He had told Malcolm that he would give him the details later so Malcolm decided to that suffice for the time being and he could now turn his full attention to more personal things. He had left Hoshi several messages yet he hadn't heard back from her. That made him very, very nervous. Perhaps she had changed her mind and now she was brushing him off. But he really wanted to see her before they left for shore leave. They didn't have any solid plans to spend any time together over the next month. Things had happened so fast between them that they had not been able to talk about it. Now, she wasn't calling him back, so he sought out her bff.

Malcolm quietly entered sick bay on _Xfinity_. It was so much bigger than _Enterprise's_ that it seemed like a small hospital. He was hoping he didn't run into Phlox and have to start answering his nosy questions. He finally spotted Liz as she emerged from one of the rooms from the back.

"Ms. Cutler," Malcolm said. "A word if you don't mind."

"Captain Reed," Liz said, trying to play it cool, but her little cryptic smile said everything. Malcolm's heart sank knowing that Liz knew. "What can I do for you? Are you in need of medication adjustment?"

Malcolm shot her an equally fake smile. "I'm looking for Hoshi. I've been calling her all day and she hasn't returned any of my calls."

"So what," Liz snapped. "I wasn't aware that Lt. Sato was at your beck and call Captain."

"Cutler, _as you were_ ," Malcolm replied, "I'm not in the mood for your nonsense today. I just want to know if you've talked to her."

"It would serve you right if she never spoke to you again," Liz snapped. "After what you put her through… _sir!"_

Malcolm just stared at her a few moments. "Well, I suppose that told me, _Lieutenant_ " he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, well I've been waiting a whole year to tell you what I really thought! Been holding all this stuff in!"

"Oh so you mean all the snide remarks, the eye rolling, the nasty comments and name calling I've endured from you all these months was you holding back?"

Liz just smiled and shot Malcolm a look. "Hmmmph!" she said.

"Look Lieutenant," Malcolm said, his tone becoming more reasonable, "you are being totally disrespectful to a superior officer. I could put you on report for insubordination!"

Cutler didn't respond right away, but her posture did change and her demeanor became more formal. "You're right, Captain. I apologize," she said. "I'm out of order." Malcolm looked down for a moment. "So if you feel you need to put me on report…"

"Come on Liz," Malcolm said. "You know I'm not going to put you on report. "Look, the original crew of _Enterprise_ has a lot of history with one another and we're just far too familiar with each other that's all. You're not doing anything I haven't done myself. It's a good thing we're not all on the same ship anymore."

"You know I have nothing but the utmost respect for you as an officer, always have," she replied simply. "It's just that as a boyfriend, you keep coming up on the short end."

The captain gave her a look.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I saw the fall-out Malcolm," Liz said. "I was the one picking up the pieces and cleaning up after you for almost a year…and it wasn't pretty."

He looked down for a moment with his hands on his hips. "All right, all right. All I want to know is, have you seen or spoken to Hoshi since we got back?"

"Come to think of it, I haven't. We were so busy dealing with the injured and all, never got the chance."

Hit bit his lip. "You don't think she's…angry with me or anything, do you?" he asked.

"No, she's not mad at you. She hasn't been for some time actually. She was just hurt Malcolm."

"I can't understand why I haven't heard from her then? I've been by her quarters three times and I don't want to make a nuisance of myself. But, I really wouldn't want to leave without seeing her."

"Then wait 'til she calls," Liz said softly, reaching her hand out on the med table toward him. Then she smiled a little. "Besides, you're already a nuisance. I'm sure she'll call when she gets a chance. Hey, wait, you might wanna check with the Commodore. She's always giving up her leave and doing special assignments for him you know. Bet that's it. Bet he has her running around like his personal pet monkey or his trained seal or something!"

" _Lieutenant_!" Scandalized by her lack of respect for her CO, Malcolm looked around to see if anyone else might be listening.

"Just saying," Liz replied blithely. "Tell you what, I'll run her down for you, find out what's going on. Then I'll let you know, okay."

"I really would appreciate it," Malcolm said. With that he turned and exited the room.

That Night. 23:00 Hours.

Malcolm was really worried now. He still hadn't heard from Hoshi, in fact no one had. He'd checked with Trip and T'Pol and they hadn't heard from her. He'd checked with several others, and no one could account for her whereabouts. Liz couldn't even find her and that made him doubly nervous. She wouldn't have started her leave early without telling anyone. That wasn't like her and by now everyone had become concerned.

He hadn't been sleeping very well, especially after he'd started having his nightmare. He was particularly concerned when Commodore Archer contacted him also worried about Hoshi. Now, it was unlikely he would get to sleep at all.

To begin with, the worry gnawing at the Englishman's mind was that because she hadn't returned to her quarters that she could be spending the night somewhere else or _with_ someone else. As the hours lengthened, he would have been grateful to know where she was at all, and finally lay down on his bed hoping at any minute to hear the comm officer contacting him to report news of her whereabouts.

About 03:00 Hours.

Malcolm was in the cabin on that frozen planet, again, trying to coax his injured female companion to have a drink.

"Come on, you need to drink just a swallow or two."

"N-no," she whispered.

"Why not?" he asked. "You need it."

"W-why are…why are you…doing this," she stammered.

"Because you need help, and I'm the only one here."

"Let me…die."

"You know I can't do that."

"You…bas…tard," she stammered.

"That's me, love," he grinned, "now drink." With that she sipped a little of the water. "That's great. Soup's for dinner, so get ready. Now that I know you can swallow, I'll be expecting you to get some of it down."

"Go…go…t-to…hell…" she whispered, then fell back onto the bed.

"That's the spirit," he said, ignoring her utter disdain for him, determined to save her life even as she fought against his attempts. Then he turned and went over to the fireplace, threw another log onto the fire and stirred it a bit more. He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain again staring out at the blanket of white.

"How the hell am I going to get us out of here," he whispered to himself. Then suddenly, he felt someone approaching, but she was so ill just seconds ago. Perhaps she'd found the will to finally try and get out of bed. But when he turned to meet her eyes, he was startled by something cold and sharp tearing into his flesh.

"What- what the hell h-have you done!" he said as he grabbed his right side. He then looked at his hand and it was covered with blood. He felt the pain, immediately tried to disconnect from it. The blood was flowing rapidly. Perhaps she had struck him a major blood vessel.

He grabbed her as she tried to stab him again and they struggled with the broken blade. Where she had got it from or when she had got it, he didn't know. He wrestled it away from her as she was too weak to put up a real fight, and tossed it across the room.

"You silly little fool!" he said as he started to stumble, trying desperately not to pass out. "You've probably just sealed both of our deaths. I was our only hope of survival!"

"Good!" She spat at him. "I told you…to let me die… Now you can die with me! I told you if I got the chance I would kill you! You should have listened!"

Suddenly, he jumped! He was in his bed, sweating profusely and his heart was racing. Automatically, he grabbed his side and quickly looked at his hand- no blood, though he could have sworn he felt some pain. He leaped up from the bunk and raced into the bathroom where quickly splashed water onto his face and then ran some into a glass on the sink and quickly gulped it down.

It's just a dream," he said to himself over and over again. "It's not real, it's just a bloody… nightmare! Calm yourself Reed, you damned coward" he added savagely. Then he walked back into the bedroom, got back into the bed and tried to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, he was up again, pacing the floor

The Next Day. 0600 Hrs.

Early the next morning Malcolm, Trip and Erica received an urgent message from Jon: they were all to meet in his ready room on _Xfinity_. When the Captains arrived they immediately noticed Jon was pacing backwards and forward. He looked distressed. This was not a good sign.

"Come in," he said when the door swished shut. "Have a seat," and gestured for them to sit. They all looked at one another.

"What's going on Commodore," Trip asked.

"Listen, all of you," Jon began, "I wouldn't have called you all this early if this wasn't a matter of extreme importance."

"Something happened in just the last few hours?" Erica asked.

"Yes," Jon said taking a deep breath. "It's Hoshi."

"Hoshi!" Malcom said almost rising from his chair. "Has something happened to Hoshi?"

"On yesterday, Lt. Sato went to Starfleet headquarters on a special assignment. I told her I'd expect her back on Jupiter Station by dinner for a briefing. She didn't show up. I called headquarters and was told she'd left there at 16:00. I thought maybe she had some other things to do. When I didn't hear from her by 2300, I checked her quarters, thought maybe she's come back without checking in with me. She wasn't on the ship. I checked the transport log and was told she returned to the station at 16:30 hours, but never left again. I wasn't trying to be nosy," he said glancing at Malcolm, who quickly averted his eyes.

"I thought perhaps she was spending the night elsewhere. But ship's logs didn't show her coming or leaving the station, or going over to any of our other ships. That's when I checked with security overnight. They have a video, showing an unconscious woman being carried onto an unidentified craft by two unknown individuals. This small ship was met by another that just de-cloaked at the station and these hooded thugs carried a woman with a hood on her head on board, then went back into stealth mode, and took off."

"What?" Malcolm said rising abruptly along with Trip.

"It was Hoshi! She's been kidnapped!" The Englishman was all but shouting. "You're telling us Hoshi's been kidnapped!"

"Yes," Jon said leaning on his desk. "We think so."

"Jon!" Erica broke in. "Any idea who did this, any idea at all?"

"Starfleet intelligence has that video and they're analyzing it. They're trying to see if they can get anything at all from it."

"Commodore, this is crazy!" Trip said. "Why Hoshi? Why would anyone want to kidnap Hoshi?"

"The last time someone took her it was for her linguistic skills," Malcolm spat, pacing the room like a caged leopard. "We have to assume that she's been taken for the same reason this time."

"I tell you what else is really troubling," Erica added. Everyone looked at her. "They came right up to Jupiter station to take her. That gentlemen, is not good."

"Permission to assist with the investigation Commodore," Malcolm said straightening his back, trying very hard to regain his composure.

"I'd like to volunteer to be a part of the investigative team as well sir," Trip said.

Jon looked at Malcolm, then at Trip and down at the floor for a moment. "Thank you for your willingness to help," he said. "But SI has this under control."

"Sir?" Malcolm's voice almost trembled with suppressed fury. "With all due respect, but I am just as qualified to conduct an investigation as anyone at SI."

"I understand that Malcolm, but you're not in investigations anymore, you're a ship's Captain, you have other responsibilities,"

Malcolm made an exasperated sound ill-befitting a starship captain, and resuming his pacing.

"Commodore!" Trip interjected, "You mean, we're not going to do anything! We're not going to try to help and find her!"

"That's not why I called you all here," Jon said. "I called you here to tell you what's happened myself. I didn't want you hearing it from some other source, gossip, or a news feed or something. Also, I need you to go back to your ships and have a meeting with your tactical officers, safety is priority. Then you need to make a ship-wide announcement-you need to make sure your crew is aware of this potential threat."

"Since everyone is going on leave, there's going to be a lot of coming and going on the station over the next few days while repairs are being done to our ships. Families are usually allowed up here to pick loved ones up. Not this time. Only authorized vessels will be allowed access to the station. But as crew are leaving I don't want anyone wandering off alone," Jon continued on.

"Everyone need to travel in groups, report suspicious activity, stay on the alert. We've already had one of their spies working right on one of our ships sabotaging us, killing our people. Now they've gotten close enough to us again to take a valuable asset. _Xfinity_ is going to be on patrol of the station and around Earth's atmosphere for the next 30 days. We've got to beef up security on the station and on our ships, we've got to be smart, not run off half-cocked. We're going to all do our jobs and let SI do theirs. Is that understood?"

"Commodore," Malcolm said. "Permission to speak freely sir."

"Malcolm, I know how you feel about Hoshi, we all do…"

"No sir, I don't believe you do. I'd like an opportunity to take _Enterprise_ and bring her back."

"I'd be happy to go along on that mission Sir," Trip said. Jon folded his arms and heaved a long sigh.

"Listen you two," he said, "And I'm only going to say this once. Go back to your ships and do your jobs! You are not to investigate this matter, you are not to take a ship and try to go after Lt. Sato, is that clear?"

"No! That's not clear!" Trip said. "That's the most ridiculous, dumbass thing I've ever heard! Hoshi is not just some little nobody, some expendable minion for hire, she's Hoshi Sato! The best damned linguist in Starfleet! _Hoshi!_ And I for one am not willing to sit around here and wait for those clowns at Starfleet Intelligence to bring her back. I say _WE_ go after whoever took her, and _WE_ bring her back! We owe her the effort! We owe her that much! We owe her that much!"

"I concur Commodore!" Malcolm said. "I'm not willing to risk Hoshi's life, to leave it in the hands of those incompetent idiots at SI! They couldn't find their backsides with both hands, let alone a kidnapper in deep space! So with all due respect _Commodore_ , I suggest we not waste any more precious time standing around here pontificating and get after it!"

Erica stood there with her mouth hanging open, but said nothing. Jon just stood staring at his two captains, then looked over at Erica. Then he looked at the floor for a second, placed his hands on his hips and took a few steps closer to both of them, getting right in their faces.

"Look," he said firmly to Trip, "I'm going to excuse your little tirade, _this time,_ because I know you've got a problem; _irreversible brain injury_ , I think Phlox called it. Causes you to experience what the doctor described as _irresistible impulses_ ; causes you act stupid, do idiotic things, shoot off at the mouth from time to time, way more than usual mind you, without thinking! Well I tell you what Captain Tucker: I suggest you go see Phlox right now, and let him check your meds, before _I_ have an irresistible impulse to throw your ass _back_ in the brig for insubordination!"

"And Captain Reed, I'm going to excuse your outburst as well," he went on, fixing on the Brit with a glare. " _This time,"_ because I know you love Hoshi… yes that's right, and don't bother denying it. I know all about you and Hoshi, I've always known. And I'm aware that it's your heart that's talking right now instead of your head. But you'd better get your head out of your ass, because if you ever speak to me like that again, you're going to find your ass in the brig right next to your good friend _irresistible impulse_ here," Jon said gesturing at Trip. "You got that?"

Trip and Malcolm didn't say anything further, they just stood there as Jon spoke; their faces showing their utter disdain for him and obvious disapproval of his directives. At the moment they appeared more like enemies rather than the comrades he'd commanded for so long.

"Now both of you, get out… and do your damn jobs, that's an order," he snapped.

"Aye Sir," the two men said calmly, turned and left the room.

Erica turned to leave as well but Jon stopped her. "Captain Hernandez," he said. "Hold on, I need a word with you." She stopped and faced him. He waited a moment until the others were completely out of the room and the door had swished closed behind them.

"I've been thinking long and hard about a lot of things," Jon began "And I have not been at my best for some time, I know that. I've made a mess of things and I accept responsibility for that. So…I've come to some decisions."

"Oh," Erica answered guardedly.

"Yes, and since they affect you, I wanted to share them with you face to face." Erica didn't speak, she just stared.

"You were right, about my aggressive attempts with finding…my son." There was silence for a moment. "I am not giving up the search completely…but I am scaling it back. I won't be going back out there myself…"

"Jon, that's all I've been…" But he stopped her.

"With this war going on, I realize, as you've pointed out…that my priority, my first duty is to the mission." Erica wanted to put her arms around his neck and embrace him, but there was something not quite right. There was something about him at the moment, something in his eyes, and something in his voice. She had seen it and heard it when he had spoken to Trip and Malcolm about finding Hoshi, it was a bit of coldness and…maybe a little…indifference.

"Alright Jon, if that's your decision," she said. "I told you I would support you in whatever…"

"It doesn't matter whether you support the decision or not, it's been made," he said. Erica frowned. "Also…be advised that you're being transferred."

"What!"

"Mark Philips death left the Captain's seat vacant on _Columbia_ ," Jon replied. "I'm sending you back over there as Captain."

"Back to _Columbia_! Jon, that's a demotion for me after this assignment! And what about Travis? He's the XO over there. He's been doing a great job and everybody knows it! Why not promote him?"

"He is doing a great job and I'm very proud of him," Jon said. "But he's not quite ready. He still doesn't have enough command experience and he doesn't have any management experience. He's a good year away from making full commander, let alone captain. That's why you're going over there, to take him under your wing, to get him ready."

"This is outrageous!" Erica protested. "You can't take over as captain full time of this ship, act as Commodore and Fleet Captain all at the same time! Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm not crazy! And you are out of line Captain!" Erica took a few steps back. What was going on?

"I see," she said, finally getting the picture. He was breaking up with her.

"Is there anything else, _sir_?"

"Yes, I'm also transferring T'Pol to another ship."

"T'Pol!"

"You heard me!"

"What about Trip?"

"What _about_ Trip?"

"He and T'Pol need to be together, don't they? At least according to Vulcan…"

"This isn't Vulcan!"

"They're married!"

"I don't recall them ever exchanging any vows!" he shot at her, his face becoming redder and redder.

Erica bit down on her lip for a moment before speaking again. "What about his medical condition? I thought Phlox said part of the treatment was T'Pol helping him? That his condition affected his judgment at times? That he wasn't responsible for…"

"None of that has been proven yet Erica," he cut her off.

"But didn't the doctor say he needed more time to study Trip's condition. You said you'd give him that."

"And I intend to. That still doesn't affect my decision regarding T'Pol. The time has come… they need to be separated."

"Jon!"

"T'Pol supports Trip in his mess, anything he does. She just agrees with him, covers for him, lies for him. But that's my fault too. I've allowed them to break the rules…for far too long…because _I_ wanted to break the rules-to indulge in my own passions. Well that ends today. I created this monster, and I'm the one that's going to reign it in! I'm setting things in order, right here and right now. From this point forward, the rules apply to everyone, me, you, Trip and T'Pol."

Erica still did not speak, she just looked at the floor.

Jon continued after a few moments, "T'Pol will be offered her own command. If she continues to refuse her promotion, then she'll serve as my XO here on _Xfinity_ , end of story."

There was no point in further protest. Jon was obviously overcome with pain and frustration at not being able to find his son, and there was the stress of the war on top of that. He was also apparently grieving the loss of hundreds of lives his company suffered in the battle just forty-eight hours ago and unfairly blaming himself. Now Hoshi had been kidnapped, and he was lashing out. This was the old Jonathan Archer, the one that reacted to problems badly and pushed friends and loved ones away when he was stressed out and under pressure. This was the Jonathan Archer of the Expanse. Erica did not say more, she felt defeated as she knew there was no arguing with _this_ Jonathan Archer.

"Well?" he asked expecting more push back.

"Sir?"

"Was there something else you wanted to say?"

"Not really," she replied. "I was just wondering though."

"Wondering what?"

"Wondering if the real Jonathan Archer would please stand up." He held his lips in a straight line, his face expressionless.

"If there's nothing further," he replied curtly, "dismissed."

"Aye Sir," she finally said, her back straight as a board, then she turned and exited the room with tears in her eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Later That Day.

Malcolm was infuriated. He wanted to go after whoever had taken Hoshi. But he had no idea who it was. All he knew was that he wanted her back, but he had been ordered not to get involved. He was a ship's captain and Hoshi was not a member of his crew. No, she was more than that: she was the woman he loved.

Suddenly his door chime sounded. "Come," he said abruptly.

"Hey," Trip said as he entered the room. "How you holdin' up?"

"I'm about to lose my mind," Malcolm replied. "Not to mention my captaincy of _Enterprise_."

Then Trip noticed what his friend was doing. "What the hell do you think you're doin' Mal?" he asked, "Where are you goin'?"

"I'm going after her," Malcolm said as he threw items in a duffel bag.

"What?" Trip replied incredulously. "Commodore Archer ordered us to stand down! He said Starfleet would handle it, that it was none of our concern!"

"Trip, this is Hoshi we're talking about, and she's been kidnapped!"

"The Commodore gave us a direct order!"

"I don't care," Malcolm said. "It's not like I haven't disobeyed a direct order before, betrayed my superior officer before!"

"You damn fool, you're gonna be court martialed," Trip said. "You do realize that don't you? Are you prepared to throw your entire career away Mal?"

"Yes!" Malcolm yelled spinning around to face his friend. "Don't you get it? This is Hoshi we're talking about damn it! I love her! I love her and she's worth a career! She worth more than a bloody career! Now leave me the hell alone because I'm fucking going! I'm just…going!"

"Alright then," Trip said. "That's all I needed to hear. I'm going with you!"

"What?" Malcolm said.

"I said I'm going with you".

"No Trip, you're not. Besides, I don't need your help. I'm not asking anyone else to get in to trouble on my account. I'm going alone. I have to do this, you don't."

"First of all, Captain Reed. Hoshi means just as much to me as she means to you, just in a different way. I love her too Mal. She's like my baby sister, and I won't sit back and just let her die. I won't." Malcolm looked down, he knew Trip was thinking about losing his sister Lizzy all over again.

"Second, I'm already in trouble so it really doesn't make any difference."

"What do you mean by that?" Malcolm asked.

"When I went against Jon's order to stand down and attacked that Orion ship and captured the other one and got thrown in the brig…"

"Yes, and?"

"Well, I told you that wasn't the end of it. I'm on probation for sixty days. Jon said if I so much as sneeze the wrong way, I'm back in the clink."

"Trip…" Malcolm started, but Trip waived his hand at him.

"And, I'm supposed to be working with some Vulcan mystic learning how to suppress my emotions. On top of that, I'm to check in with Phlox every other day or so about some damned drug research program."

Malcolm frowned, looking at Trip. "Perhaps you should consider it. The treatment could prove successful and it could save your career," he interjected with a sincere look.

"Uh huh!" Trip replied. "There's more. At the end of my probation, I'll be appearing before a hearing committee and Phlox is gonna testify. If it's determined that I did what I did because of my condition, then apparently, I'm unable to follow orders and therefore I'm not fit for duty and I'm out of the service. If it's determined that I didn't do what I did because of my condition, that I knowingly and willingly disobeyed a direct order, then I'm out of the service.

The Brit frowned again, folding his arms. "Well…that means…"

"Yeah you got it," Trip interrupted. "Any way you slice it, I'm out! So what difference does it make whether I participate in Phlox's damned drug program or take those Vulcan mind-control classes or not? I'm out! Bottom line is, I got nothing to lose, and you need help bringing Hoshi back, so let me help you."

Malcolm just stared at Trip a moment. "What do you have in mind Mr. Tucker?"

"Well what's your plan," Trip asked. "How can I help?"

"I don't have a plan, yet" Malcolm admitted. "Other than just…taking a shuttle craft from _Enterprise's_ cargo bay and making a run for it."

"Well, that won't do, we need a warp seven ship," Trip said.

"Where are we going to get a warp seven ship, other than stealing yours or mine? We'll never make it out of space dock."

"Oh ye of little faith," Trip grinned. "When I was running Jupiter Station, I met a lot of people, some of less than reputable character. I know you've got a few of those in your pocket as well. We put our notes together and we come up with something. I'm confident I can commandeer a ship, if you can come up with some weapons, some information about where the hell to at least start looking, and a couple of people to watch our backs. Mal we can bring Hoshi back I know it!"

Malcolm stood up straight. He'd started to feel encouraged. He looked at Trip for a few moments, his eyes dancing with what looked like a cross between fury and anticipation, the wheels of his mind spinning. "There's a couple of blokes who owe me a favor or two. Perhaps it's time to cash in on them," he finally said.

"Now you're talking," Trip said rubbing his hands together. "How long do you need?"

"Meet back here at 1600 hours. I'm certain I can put something together. You sure you can get a ship?"

"Watch me!" Trip said.

15:00 Hours, That Same Day.

Liz Cutler's Quarters.

Liz had spent an hour being interviewed in a conference room on _Xfinity_ by SI. The young medical officer had been crying all day upon learning that her best friend had been kidnapped. She told the investigators the last time she talked to Hoshi and the last time she saw her. She did not tell them _everything_ they talked about however, but she mentioned the fact that Malcolm had come to visit her yesterday looking for the comm officer. They also asked her questions about Hoshi's family and places she could have gone if she wanted to disappear. She was uncomfortable when security and one of the investigators insisted on escorting her back to her quarters.

Once Liz was inside her door, the investigator stepped just inside though uninvited, and prevented the door from swishing close.

She looked at him incredulously and snapped, "wait, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You will notify us immediately if you hear anything or if Lt. Sato contacts you for any reason," the investigator suggested.

"I already said I would," she sneered, "now back off!"

"Well then, that's all for now Lt. Cutler, but we may have a few more questions for you at a later time," the man said.

"Whatever, now get out!"

"We're going to do everything we can to bring Lt. Sato back," he said looking down at Liz. "We just need everyone's cooperation; that you tell us _everything_ you know. You know Commodore Archer said that this wasn't the time for secrets and playing children's games. He told us to reiterate that with certain crew members…to keep an eye on you. Do we _need_ to keep an eye on you Lieutenant?"

"Look damn it," the distraught woman replied defiantly, "I don't know what the Commodore meant by that, but I realize that Lt. Sato is not only a valued member of this crew, but she's also… _my friend and I would never hold back information nor do anything to jeopardize her safety!"_ she said through tears. Then there was a moment of silence as Liz continued crying.

"Well, good night Lieutenant," the investigator finally blurted out and he and the security officer turned and left.

After a few minutes passed Liz grabbed a padd from her desk and threw it at the door. "I wouldn't tell you _shit_ even if I did know something! And that goes for you too Commodore, you insensitive, cold-hearted, incompetent, fucking…bastard!" she yelled.

" _Liz!"_ a voice said startling her as he emerged from her bathroom, taking a hold of her and gesturing for her to keep quiet. "You need to keep it together. What if they were still in the corridor?"

"Says the man hiding in my bathroom," Cutler retorted as she held her chest. "What are you still doing here, you scared the crap out of me!"

"I told you I was gonna wait for you, find out how your interview went. Nobody's telling me anything and it's driving me nuts! What was that all about?" Travis asked. "Thought they were interviewing everybody in the conference room. That's where they talked to me. What were they doing coming to your quarters? I didn't know if they were coming in or not, so I hid."

"Apparently they think I know more than I'm saying and they thought they'd intimidate me or something! Hell if I know!"

"Why would they think you know something more?"

"Because everybody _always_ think I know something about everything!" she shouted.

Travis looked at her with his hands on his hips. "Well, _do you_ know something about this? _"_ She became quiet and just stared at the her former crewmate. " _Liz?_ You do know something don't you?"

"UUUHHHGGG!" the frustrated woman grunted, grabbing a pillow from her bunk and throwing it. "Okay, look…I'm not sure, but I think Trip and Malcolm…I think they're planning something. I think they're going after her."

"What makes you say that?"

"I saw Trip earlier. He was acting strange. Talking fast and lying his ass off about missing an appointment with doc to get his meds. I was at the transport pad making arrangements to go to the surface for leave tomorrow. That's where I ran into him. He was making some arrangements of his own-to move a ship out of the hangar."

"A ship! How the hell did you manage to find that out?"

"Let's just say, I know the clerk there real well. He has a thing for me; told him I'd go to dinner with him. He said Trip filed papers to legally claim this little warp seven ship that's been in storage with all the old, banged up-ones for over a year."

Travis' eyes became big as saucers. "A warp seven ship, really? C'mon Liz, who's gonna just leave a warp seven ship laying around in space dock for a whole year?"

"Well from what I'm told, back when our Captain Tucker was running Jupiter station, there was this guy on the run for his life right, from some bounty hunters or something," Cutler beamed at the opportunity to share the gossip.

"Trip did him a favor and let him hide out somewhere over there for days, saved his life. Even repaired his ship for him. The guy leaves on a shuttle craft, too afraid to take his ship out thinking the hunters would recognize it. Tells the good captain he'll come back later for it. But check this out-he never comes back. My friend at the hangar tells me Trip's been checking on it from time to time, powering it up, taking it out for a run, and this morning, he sends an application to the surface to the registrar's office and files a claim to it. What does that tell you?" she concluded, hitting Travis on the arm."And if Trip's involved, Malcolm's involved! You can bank on that!"

Travis shook his head. "How do you do it?"

"Hey! I ask questions when I wanna know something, okay! There's no crime in asking questions!"

"You know what people say about you don't you?" he asked looking at her out the corner of his eye, tilting his head at her.

"So damn what! Who gives a shit?" she spat with a flip of her hand.

"So why didn't you just tell the investigators and the Commodore? It might be the key to saving Hoshi's life you know?"

She looked at him with a seriousness about her and stated emphatically, "Travis, I'd put my money on Malcolm and Trip any day. Besides, I answered all of SI's questions truthfully and they never once asked me anything about anybody moving a ship out of space dock." The young ex-boomer shook his head again in disbelief.

"Anyway, why don't you see if you can catch up to our fine Starfleet captains and try to find out what they're up to?" she said as she laid her hand gently on his arm. "Talk to Rick over at hangar ten."

Travis kissed her on the cheek and hurried for the door.

A Short Time Later.

Launch Bay Ten.

What Malcolm and Trip was able to put together in just under a day was impressive. Malcolm had a lot of connections and some of them almost frightened Trip. These guys were mercenaries, rogue section 31 operatives, criminals, or plain street thugs. There were six humans, a big Coridian, two Andorians and even a Vulcan. Trip was aware that Malcolm knew some questionable characters, but he had no idea he knew these kind of people. They seemed more than up to the task though. This apparently wasn't their first rodeo and they had weapons galore; phase pistols, rifles, explosives and various other torture devices.

Malcolm on the other hand was impressed with the ship. It was a warp seven vessel capable of housing a crew of up to about thirty. It had shields, particle phase cannons and even a cloaking device. In addition it housed a small shuttle craft. Malcolm wondered how Trip could have got his hands on this ship in such a short time. He definitely wanted to hear this story when he had a chance.

So with Malcolm's ten crew members, the armory and bridge would be maintained. Trip had taken care of the engineers, five of them. They had no real doctor, only a medic and just a food replicator to provide their meals, but this wasn't to be a long term mission nor a luxury cruise so they had to make due. Besides these folks were doing this for money, not comfort. Malcolm and Trip had pooled their financial resources and were paying their small crew a pretty penny for this little venture, but they didn't care. It was worth it to them.

There was however a small snag in the operation on their way to their rendezvous point. They had sneaked into the launch bay and was just about to board the ship there that Trip had obtained when they were met with an unexpected quest.

"You guys look like you're about to do something real stupid," Travis said. Trip and Malcolm stopped dead in their tracks.

"Bloody hell," the Englishman said.

Trip just hung his head, but after a moment raised it defiantly. "Whadda ya mean by that Travis?" Trip replied. "We're on leave. Mal and I are going on a fishing trip, that's all."

The young ex-Boomer looked at the vessel they were about to board. "Not on that you aren't. That's a warp seven ship, small, but fully loaded, particle phase cannons, maybe even with defensive shield and cloaking device technology to boot!"

"Damn first class helmsman," Malcolm muttered. "Look mate," he said. "What Trip and I are up to is none of your business, right? We're on leave so it's none of Starfleet's business either!"

"Yeah!" Trip added. "We're going on a skiing trip on Andoria, that's all."

"A few minutes ago it was a fishing trip," Travis pointed out.

Trip and Malcolm looked at one another.

"Look!" Travis said stepping closer to the two men. "I'm not stupid. I know what you're doing. You're going after Hoshi." There was silence for a few moments as they all stared at one another. "And I'm going with you," Travis finally said.

"No you're not," Trip replied promptly.

"Hoshi's my friend too!" Travis shot back. "She's just as important to me as she is to either of you!"

"Look Travis," Trip held on to his patience. "I know she is. We all care a great deal about Hoshi, but you gotta look at this thing rationally. Out of all of us, you've got the most to lose. You're still young, you've got your whole career ahead of you. Me and Mal, well, let's just say, we're kinda on the down swing here."

"Bullshit!" Travis said. "You're both Captains, two of Starfleet's finest and everyone knows it! So if you're willing to risk everything you've worked for why shouldn't I? You've made your choice why can't I do the same?"

"Travis! Someone has to stay behind and mind the store! Someone has to be here to have Commodore Archer's back! Don't you get it, we may not be coming back!"

"Trip, Trip!" Malcolm interrupted. "He's right."

"What?" Trip said incredulously.

"I said he's right. Let him come. He has just as much right to throw his career away as we do. It's his choice. I say the more the merrier."

"Great!" Travis said cheerfully and picked up his gear and started to walk toward the ship.

Trip just looked at Malcolm like he was crazy. "Well, I think you finally lost it Mal!" Trip said. "Yep, you finally went on over the edge. He's the last person we need taggin' along on this thing!"

But as Travis walked toward the ship, Malcolm took out his phase pistol and shot him in the back.

"Malcolm!" Trip said. "Shit! You _are_ crazy aren't you?"

"Yes, completely! I saved him from a. raising the alarm on us, and b. throwing his career away! Now help me him get him out of sight." With that they lifted the younger man and put him in a nearby closet in the launch bay area.

"He's gonna be mad as a wet hen when he wakes up," Trip observed. "And sore as hell from that phase pistol stun."

"He'll live," Malcolm said levelly. "But you were right. There's no way he needed to be putting a premature end to his squeaky clean record by hanging out with the likes of us. Besides, if we die on this mission or if we live long enough to get court martialed, someone's going to have to take our places, and it damned well better be him rather than some bloke who never navigated a ship through the Expanse, was held hostage by the Suliban, went to war with the Xindi or stood toe to toe with a Romulan drone ship. Not to mention the way he's handled himself on the bridge whenever he's been left in command."

"It doesn't happen often Captain Reed, but when you're right, you're right," Trip said patting him on the back. Then they proceeded to board their ship.

=/\=

"So, what did you tell T'Pol?" Malcolm asked once they were inside the ship and had put their gear away.

"I didn't tell her anything. She's on Vulcan meditating. Said she needed to be alone for a couple of weeks. I didn't argue with her. We rarely go separate ways, but if she says she needs to do it, she must really need to. I can imagine with her helping me maintain control and all, she probably really needed a break from me."

The Brit laughed. "If you don't get killed on this mission, she's gonna kill your arse to Kingdom Come when you get back."

"That she will my friend. That she will," Trip said smiling. "You wanna brief these fine fellows on how this little venture is supposed to work."

"Why don't you do the honors," Malcolm shook his head solemly. "I think you should take on the role as ship's Captain. I prefer to take the lead as the chief operative and at tactical. You run things up here, I run things on the ground. And listen, these blokes only know me as Viper, it's a code name. You choose one too. No need for the likes of these to know who you really are."

"Okay, that'll work," Trip agreed. "Hey everybody listen up," raising his voice as he turned to address their rag-tag team. "For those of you who haven't met me yet, I'm Cobra, and welcome to the _Excalibur._ This is my ship, so I'm your Captain for this mission. Most of you have met Viper over here. He's your lead on tactical and ops. We're going to be going into enemy territory to bring back a colleague of ours, a dear friend…someone we regard as family.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, you already know this is gonna be dangerous, and you're gonna be putting your life on the line. None of us may be coming back alive. But we've got a job to do, and you've all signed on for a particular function. We need you to be at your level best, whether that's engineerin', armory, medical or if you're a part of the away team. Just follow me and Viper's lead and this'll work out fine. Hopefully, we'll get our friend back and we'll all get to go home… _alive_ …and you'll get the rest of your pay." Everybody laughed at that.

"Now, there's plenty of crew quarters on this boat," he went on. "Go find you a space and get settled in. We'll get under way in a few minutes."

With that they dispersed.

"Cobra?" Malcolm asked, giving his friend a look when they were alone. "Captain _Cobra_?"

The engineer shrugged. "I know it's corny, probably the most overused code name in history, but I couldn't think of anything else on the fly, other than 'Trip,' so I just went with it - besides, now we can be snakes together. If you got something better I'm listenin'."

Malcolm made an exasperated sound and walked away, shaking his head.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

 **Somewhere Beyond Coridan and Tellar.**

Hoshi opened her eyes and looked around. Her eyes hurt and her head hurt. She felt dizzy and she didn't know where she was. One minute she was on Jupiter station, the next someone had come up behind her and injected her with a hypo. She had awakened for a moment on a ship, but didn't know if she were dreaming or not. Then she'd been thrown onto a bed in a dark room, alone for hours with her hands tied behind her back. She didn't know what time it was or what day it was.

After a time, a woman came in and allowed her to go to the bathroom and relieve herself. She was given food and allowed to shower and change into a plain jumpsuit. Then two armed males who looked a lot alike, tall, muscular build, brown hair, and copper skin, took her into a room to wait. Suddenly a door opened and as a newcomer entered an all-too-familiar face stared back into hers.

Hoshi's eyes widened. "Oh no!" she cried out in anguish, knowing what this woman, this killer, was capable of. "Why… Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

"Awww, frightened are we?" V'Shele asked with a sneer.

But Hoshi knew her as her former shipmate Allison Wells. She had been exposed as a Romulan spy, responsible for sabotaging Starfleet and for the deaths of multiple victims. Malcolm had been forced back into covert black ops by Section 31, aided by Admiral Wallace of Starfleet command over a year ago. His assignment had been to wine and dine Wells and he had completed his assignment, perhaps better than expected. He had gained her trust and she had fallen for him. In turn, she had led him to a Romulan cell cluster on Krios Prime and then he had done what no one at Starfleet Intelligence had been able to do. He had led the operation that brought the spy ring down, captured and brought Comrade V'Shele into custody. She was one of the most notorious and wanted spies known to SI and they had never been able to touch her. That was until 'Viper' was assigned to the case.

Unfortunately, she hadn't remained in custody very long. She escaped and her whereabouts had been unknown since then. Until now.

"No," Hoshi said straightening her back, remembering what the Xindi had done to her so long ago. "I – I just think you're a bitch, and I … have no intention of helping you do whatever it is you plan on doing."

V'Shele laughed. "Most people _know_ I'm a bitch, and who gives a shit! But what I want with you…what I have planned for you my dear, my sweet, sweet Lieutenant," she said, cupping Hoshi's chin in her hand. Hoshi jerked away. "Oh you'll definitely do. You will do beautifully for me, not because you value your own life, but because you value _his."_

" _His?"_ Hoshi replied, swallowing her terror. "Who are you talking about? I know a lot of people, a lot of…"

Bitterness glinted in the eyes opposite hers. "You know who I'm talking about you pathetic little liar! Dark hair, no-bullshit, penchant for weapons, strange accent! The one we both love… _and hate_."

"You don't even know what love is," Hoshi shot back.

"Maybe not," V'Shele snapped almost with venom, "but I know that _you_ love Malcolm…and I know he loves you. He will always love you!"

Hoshi lowered her head for a moment, groping for a lie that might hold water. "That's all over now. It's been over between me and Malcolm for a long time, you saw to that. So if this is about him…"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" the Romulan snapped. "I know everything about you, Sato! I can see him all over you...even now!"

Hoshi lowered her head.

"I know about all of your little friends from _Enterprise_!" V'Shele continued. "I know about your family back on Earth. Tell me, do you still enjoy sake? How's your aikido? You like your eggs scrambled soft, no? Red, yellow, pink roses! Tell me, did you know that if you put aspirin in roses they'll live twice as long?"

Hoshi's head shot up. "It was you! All this time, it was you, sending those flowers, those little gifts, watching me!" V'Shele just smiled faintly, and said nothing. "How do you know so much about me? How... did you get close enough to take me?"

"I have contacts everywhere," her nemesis sneered. "And money can buy you most anything, or you have to be willing to make good on your threats."

"What do you want with me?"

"I have an assignment for you," V'Shele said, "and you will carry it out. You will do as I demand and see it through until the end, otherwise I will have each of your friends from _Enterprise_ hunted down like dogs and one by one eliminated, brutally. Lastly, I will come after your family on Earth."

Hoshi looked mortified. What did this woman want from her? What assignment? Flashbacks from what she endured on the Xindi ship went across her mind. Perhaps V'Shele wanted her to translate something that was going to have a direct effect on the war. Something big. She wouldn't do it, but how could she refuse when lives were at stake? Before she could make her decision however, she felt something cold one her neck, then darkness claimed her.

=/\=

When Hoshi woke up she was stripped down to her underwear and strapped down to a metal table. She knew what that meant. The room was dimly lit. She looked to the left of her and saw a medical tray table full of tools. She gasped as a chill ran down her spine.

"You are awake, my dear," a tall, dark haired man said to her in what sounded like Vulcan, but she noticed odd variations in it. As he continued speaking however, she began to realize it was more than likely a dialect of Vulcan, or Romulan perhaps. Then he activated a universal translator and she began to better understand what he was saying.

Then he started to power up tools and hold them close to her face; she couldn't help it, she started to scream. "You have such a lovely face," he said. "I am under strict orders that no blemish should befall it. So do not be concerned, I will preserve it intact." Then he held some type of laser close to her face as she screamed and pulled against the restraints holding her down.

"No!" she screamed. "Why are you doing this? No! No! I don't know anything!"

"There is nothing that I want from you," the man said. "I am simply following orders. Now, how shall we proceed? I have also been desirous to learn how several alien viruses and pathogens would affect a live subject if infected." With that he showed Hoshi several creatures that looked like leeches and bugs; one even resembled a small jelly fish.

"Open wide," the man said, gesturing for her to open her mouth as he held one of the creatures between a pair of tongs. She cried and tried to keep her mouth shut on another scream.

"How is our subject doing, Doctor?" a voice asked as someone else entered the room.

"Most uncooperative," the doctor said.

"Perhaps she's in the mood to give blood," V'Shele said, gesturing at the I.V. port in the prisoner's arm.

"Please don't," Hoshi pleaded.

Suddenly V'Shele grabbed a large knife and held it at Hoshi's throat. "You know, I fucking hate prissy, pristine, privileged, squeaky-clean, goody-two-shoed bitches like you; that never had to fight for or want for shit in their whole goddamned lives! Never had to lie and steal or kill, never had to sleep in the street or get their manicured hands dirty, or fuck some dirty old bastard for a piece of bread! So stop whining, stop slobbering and crying and grow a fucking spine, 'because you're here with me now, and you're gonna need one to take what you got coming to you _Ms. Sato_! Now deal with it!" Then she lightly slid the knife across Hoshi's neck, just barely breaking the skin enough to draw a little blood. Hoshi bit her lip hard as tears fell. Then V'Shele threw the knife across the room and walked away as the doctor laughed heartily.

=/\=

Much to her surprise, that was the extent of her torture. Hoshi was moved to a plain room, with white walls, and unpainted furniture. There was a bed and a desk, no pictures or anything decorative, but a whole wall with various books on shelves. She wondered if she could read any of them. She got up and went over to the books and pulled one of them down and opened it. The language was Vulcan in some of them. She guessed that the other language was Romulan or Rhiannsu. There were other texts that she did not recognize.

Suddenly, someone came through the door with a tray.

Hoshi's stomach felt completely empty but she didn't feel much like eating. She didn't know how long she'd been in that godforsaken place, but she could feel the deep pangs in her belly. Still she didn't really want to eat. Besides she didn't trust these people. Perhaps they were going to poison her or drug her.

"Eat," the woman said.

"No…thank you," Hoshi replied with a harsh look and turned her attention back to the book she was looking at.

"You had better eat something," the woman said. "Mistress was very specific. She said that you were to have a meal, that it was imperative that you keep your strength up."

"I don't give a damn what _Mistress_ said. I don't want it, take it away!"

"Look missy!" The woman said, hurrying over and grabbing Hoshi by the arm. "It's _plomeek_ soup and a _valmor_ sandwich. I know you're familiar with the soup, and the sandwich is just a veggie spread."

Hoshi jerked away from her. "I don't care what it is, you eat it if you want!"

"Why, you ungrateful little witch!" the woman snapped.

"How do I know it's not poison, or…or something!"

"Eat!" the woman screamed.

With that, Hoshi took the food and flung it against the wall.

The woman made an exasperated sound and tore from the room. A few minutes later, who but the last person she wanted to see returned with her two guards, along with the woman and a new tray of food.

"Refusing a perfectly good meal eh?" V'Shele said.

"I don't want ANYTHING from you!" Hoshi yelled.

"I told you, I need you healthy for your assignment," the Romulan said.

"And I told you, I'm not helping you do a damned thing!"

"You will eat, I tell you!" V'Shele said, took the sandwich and, rushing Hoshi, pushed her onto the floor and tried to force feed it to her. Hoshi struggled and spat the food out, then spat on her tormentor.

They struggled a few moments on the floor and Hoshi got a couple of good punches in right between her opponent's eyes and in her chin. V'Shele was stunned, but quickly recovered and punched Hoshi back, who then grabbed the Romulan by her dark red hair and pulled her face down to hers and bit into her jaw, drawing blood. At that point the guards pulled them apart.

V'Shele leaped up from the floor watching Hoshi as she struggled against the guards. She touched her face where she had been bitten then looked at the small amount of blood on her hand.

"What would you have us do with her?" one of the big guards asked. "Twenty lashes should teach her to never strike you again Mistress!"

"No Samson," she snarled. Then laughed. "She's a scrapper. That's good! I like that."

"You go to hell!" Hoshi shouted still struggling against the hold of the guards.

"A few days in isolation then," the other guard suggestion. "That should break her will."

V'Shele looked at the man who had just spoke. "That idea has merit Goliath," she grinned. "Have it your way then," she turned facing Hoshi again. "You refuse food and water, then none you shall have. Take her!" she said to her henchmen. Then then dragged the comm officer away as she struggled.

They took her to a dark, damp cell in the basement, and there she stayed in the cold for what she afterwards calculated was three days…without food and water.

Three Days Later.

When Hoshi was released from her cell, she felt weak, headachy and grimy, but still determined to resist. She had been visited by several small vermin that had bitten her in various places and some eight legged creatures, and by now she was so hungry she had considered eating a couple of them, but she resisted.

She was placed back in the same room she had been in before. This time however, _Mistress_ herself was there waiting for her. Hoshi tried to look defiant as she was led into the room by the arm and forced to sit at the table across from Mistress. What they didn't know was, she had no intention of refusing food this time; she was starving.

"Now, are we ready to cooperate Lt. Sato and eat your vegetables like a good girl?" V'Shele asked as Hoshi stared at her. Hoshi did not speak, she just barely gave a nod.

V'Shele snapped her fingers at the woman standing at the doorway with the food tray. She quickly brought it over and set it in front of the prisoner.

Hoshi hesitated a few moments, then with a shaky hand lifted the cover off the tray. She screamed, tossing the cover and leaping up from her seat, knocking her chair over, for on the tray lay a dead creature similar to a large sewer rat except it had really long legs, its fur, beady eyes and long tail still intact.

V'Shele doubled over with laughter. "What's the matter," she sneered, "can't take a joke?" She laughed for a few moments more as she watched her victim, then snapped her fingers again and the woman hurried over, collected the dead animal and took it away. Hoshi stood there holding her chest and shaking, in part because she was still startled, but also because she was so weak.

"Sit," V'Shele said still laughing as she exited the room.

A couple of tears ran down Hoshi's cheeks as she slowly sat back down. A few minutes later a younger woman, medium height and build, with brown hair, that she had never seen before entered the room with another tray of food.

Hoshi jumped a little.

"It is alright my dear," the newcomer said. Then she took the top off of the tray to show Hoshi that it was real food, but still Hoshi did not make a move toward eating. "And no, it is not poisoned, nor drugged." Still Hoshi did not budge. "Here, watch." The young woman took a spoon full of the soup and ate it. "See," she said. "Now would I have done that if the soup were poisoned or drugged? Please eat. You must be famished."

Hoshi stared at the bowl for a moment, then grabbed it and tore into it.

"There's more where that came from," the young woman said. "By the way, I am called "V'Lyn."

Hoshi looked up from her bowl for a few seconds. "I'm Hoshi Sato," she said in a shaky voice.

"I know," V'Lyn replied.

"And you're not Rihannsu," Hoshi said.

The other woman looked surprised. "How did you know that?" she asked.

"Your voice inflections and tone sound more Vulcan."

"Yes, well, it's a long story. But, listen, a word of advice, Mistress has no intention of hurting you, not really," she whispered, leaning in close to Hoshi. "She's just playing mind games with you."

"What does she want with me then? Why am I here?"

"I –I can't tell you that," V'Lyn said. "Just try and cooperate and you may well get out of this alive."

"I have no intention of divulging Starfleet secrets, she'll have to kill me before I do that," Hoshi replied.

"She's not interested in Starfleet secrets," V'Lyn said.

"What?"

"If only it were as simple a task as that," the young woman said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, just try to keep your strength up. You're going to need it."

"For what?"

"Look, I've said too much. Just try to cooperate, alright? Do that and you may be fortunate enough…to survive this thing yet…different…but you may survive it even still."

"V'Lyn, please tell me. If she's not after Starfleet secrets, what is V'Shele after?"

But the young woman only ignored the question and rose up. "I'm…going to get you more soup."

"V'Lyn! V'Lyn! Please!" Hoshi kept calling after her, but she hurried away without looking back.

Hoshi sat back hard in her seat and started to think. Could V'Lyn be telling her the truth? Did V'Shele really not want Starfleet secrets? She had to, she was a spy, that's what she did. But everybody kept telling her that she had to keep her strength up. That was strange. When you were a kidnap victim, in the middle of a war no less, wasn't pain and torture the name of the game?

Then she thought about her first conversation with V'Shele. She had mentioned Malcolm. She said he was the one they both loved, and hated. Could this whole thing really be about him? Could she be that twisted? Then she got up and started to pace the floor backward and forward.

"Oh my God!" Hoshi said out loud. "It's a trap! This is a trap! She's trying to lure Malcolm here! Somehow she's trying to get him to come after me, and God knows who else! Maybe she thinks he'll bring Trip along for the ride, she hates him too. The two of them would be just foolish enough to try and rescue me too! Oh no, oh no! Malcolm, don't fall for it. Please Malcolm, this isn't the time to become all chivalrous or start disobeying orders. Whatever you do, don't come for me, just don't come," she said, "just don't come!"

=/\=

The _Excalibur._

After they had settled in and gotten under way, Trip and Malcolm huddled in the very small Ready Room of the ship.

"So where're we goin'?" Trip asked curiously as Malcolm viewed a star chart.

"Here." the Brit pointed at the chart. "We are heading for this set of coordinates, then we are to rendezvous in three days at an outpost in the Gamma Quadrant. I have a contact that we're meeting there for further instructions."

Trip looked up at his friend with a frown. "And just where'd you get these coordinates and just who the hell is this contact?"

"You met Mr. Steele, right?"

Trip nodded. "Yeah, the helmsman, a real charmer that one."

"He was able to obtain the ion trail of the ship believed to have taken Hoshi."

"How the hell did he do that?" His tone was one of amazement.

"He's one of Harris', at least he was," the Brit replied flatly.

"Section 31!" Trip said, now with alarm in his voice. "Can he be trusted?"

"No, so watch your back."

The engineer blinked hard and shook his head. "He can't be trusted, but you brought him along anyway! Malcolm, I don't understand, what are you doin?"

At that moment the Englishman stopped what he was doing and stood still, his hands resting on the smart table in front of him. He looked at Trip intently. "Look, there are times when things just cannot be accomplished without playing a very different kind of game. The kind of game that you haven't really been privy to or seen up close. You're about to enter into the world of black ops, Trip. Once you've done that, there's no turning back. And inside that world there's very few you can trust. You may need their services from time to time or you may be forced to work alongside them in order to save your life or that of someone you love…to complete your assignment, but you don't trust them…ever."

Trip looked at Malcolm for a moment and wondered if he really even knew him at all.

"And those guys who brought the weapons aboard?"

"Oh you mean Smith and Wesson? They're independents," Mal said with a grin.

"They're fuckin' mercs!" Trip shot back.

"And they didn't come cheap," was all the Brit would say in response.

"I'm gatherin' they can't be trusted either?" Trip asked in a heightened voice.

Malcolm just shot him a look. "Trip! Give it a rest. You just concentrate on running the ship, all right. Leave the rest to me."

Trip frowned and leaned over the table for a moment. "Alright, I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"I haven't questioned your lot of engineers," the Brit said. "I totally left that up to your esteemed judgment. But a couple of them did look a tad familiar, like that Andorian. I could have sworn I've seen her walking the streets near the dock in San Francisco, the seedy end of town mind you!"

Trip put his tongue in his cheek for a moment and looked down. "Oh, that's Veena. She just got out of jail and needed a job, okay!" Malcolm tilted his head a bit and gave his friend a look. "She fell on hard times Mal. Got kicked out of the Andorian fleet a while back and had to find another source of income until she could pass her certification exams and find work as an engineer. But she really knows her stuff!"

"I wasn't judging," The Brit laughed a little raising his hands. "And the Vulcan?"

"Yeah, that's Kov. He came aboard Enterprise once during our first year."

"Oh, right," Malcolm replied. "One of the Vulcans without logic, I think T'Pol called them."

"That's not entirely true, but never mind that. Kov and I hit it off and we've stayed in touch ever since then. I knew he was gonna be on Earth visiting during our shore leave and we planned to hook up. When I contacted him and told him about this venture, he couldn't wait to come along. He's a competent engineer, one of the best."

"If you say so. I defer to your sound reasoning," Reed said with a grin.

"So who's this contact we're supposed to be meetin'?" Trip asked.

"Trust me," Malcolm replied, slapping Trip on the back as he started to walk away. And adding, with a gleam of what looked like humor, "And Mr. Tucker…you _know_ you can trust _me_."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

 _Excalibur_ traveled along at warp seven without incident, following the ion trail of the ship that they believed had taken Hoshi, the course given to Malcolm by an unnamed source. That was all fine and good, except what worried Trip was that who the hell could trust some of these so-called sources, rogue operatives or lying-ass anybodies or nobodies willing to do or say anything for a payday.

On the other hand, what worried Malcolm was that the ship seemed to be in top shape, except every so many hours the warp field seemed to become unstable or the cloaking device went off line and Trip had to get it back on line or they had to fly without it. He just felt better when they traveled undetected by other ships, especially since whenever something went wrong with the ship, Trip 'lost it' to some degree.

This was their third day of travel and all of a sudden the ship started to slow down. Trip, of course, was the first one to feel it. But when Malcolm started to notice it, Trip knew they were in trouble.

"What the hell is the matter with this bloody boat this time?" Malcolm spat at Trip from the tactical station on the bridge.

"What are you talking about?" Trip shot back defensively from the command chair.

"Don't even try it," Malcolm replied. "We're slowing down. I know you feel it. If I can, I sure as hell know you can!"

With that Trip pressed the comm to engineering. "Kov!" he called out to the Vulcan. "What the hell is going on?"

"The warp containment field is slipping again. I'm working on it."

"Well you got it, or what?"

"I got it," he said, "just give me a few more minutes…"

"Well quit acting like some second rate engineer and just get it done!" Trip shouted. "I don't wanna hear any goddamned excuses right now, just fucking get it done!" Then he cut the communication.

Malcolm had been observing this exchange and of course was concerned because he knew what was happening.

"I have to say, Captain," he remarked quietly, "that was harsh."

"You're the one who was just bitching and complaining about the goddamned warp drive!"

"I wasn't suggesting you tear the man's head off, just that you check on the problem."

"So I checked on it, what the hell do you want from me?"

"I want you to calm down… and perhaps take a break, Captain," Malcolm tried to say calmly.

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up!" Trip shouted aggressively.

Malcolm looked around at the crew who were now staring. This particular crew were by no means choir boys, but they knew when something was off, and they had seen enough over the last few days to know something was off with their leader at times.

"Take a break Captain," Malcolm tried to say in a calming, but firm voice, not wanting to agitate his senior officer and potentially escalate the situation further.

"I don't need a break!" Trip snapped, "I'm fine, I'll take a break…"

"Captain!" the navigator called out, "I'm detecting a ship on long range scanners, 25,000 kilometers away."

"A ship! Damn it! "Hail 'em," Trip said to the comm officer.

"No response sir," the young man said after a few moments.

"They're charging weapons," Malcolm said.

"How long?" Trip asked the comm officer.

"Five minutes sir!"

Shortly afterwards they were bombarded with a barrage of particle cannon fire. The ship shook and several of the bridge crew went flying.

"How's our shield strength?" Trip asked.

"Still holding!" Malcolm said, "Ninety-seven percent!"

"Damn good shields!"

"Shouldn't we return weapons fire?" one of the bridge crew members asked.

"Why lower our shields to do that? I say we get the hell out of here!" Trip replied.

"How are we going to outrun them?" Malcolm asked. "The last time we checked, we were losing warp drive, remember?"

"Shit!" Trip said. "I forgot about that! Take over, I'm going to engineerin'!" With that, Trip took off in a run. He raced for the turbo lift and a few minutes later he was helping Kov restore warp drive to its full capacity. They worked frantically and were on the verge of success, when Trip took that moment to go left.

"Shields seem to be holding, but we'd better hurry sir," Kov said anxiously, "if we're going to outrun that damn ship! I think if we remix the deuterium in the thrusters one more time that ought to do it! What do you think?"

"What do I think? What do I _think?_ " Trip began, his voice rising. "I think this ship is a piece of crap that's what! That goddamned Cravius Moran, guy that owned this broken down piece of shit, just sold me a bill of goods that's what! Said this boat was practically new! I just wish I could get my fucking hands on him! I would break that scrawny chicken neck of his, that's what! If he was still alive, if I knew where the hell he was!"

"Captain! We don't have time for this, okay!" Kov said. "Right now, I need your help remixing the deuterium…!"

"You should've already had extra mixed in storage! We shouldn't be doing this in a crisis! What's the matter with you! What's the matter with any of you!" he shouted, spinning around and waving his hands at the other three engineers who were frantically working at their posts. "Don't you people know anything? Haven't you ever been in a fire fight before?"

"Captain!" Kov shouted.

"What!" Trip shouted aggressively, with a wild look on his eyes and his nostrils flaring. Everyone was looking at each other.

"What the hell is the matter with him?" Veena, the Andorian asked as she and the others looked on. "I've never seen him like this before."

Kov then pressed the comm for the bridge.

"Viper here! Where's that warp seven speed, Captain?"

"Viper, this is Kov! What's the matter with Cobra? He's acting crazy! I can't get him to focus, he's ranting and raving about a lot of irrelevant nonsense! I need you to calm him down, to talk to him!"

"I've got my hands full, Kov! You're going to have to handle him! Do what you have to do!"

"All right, Kov out!"

"What are you calling him for!" Trip shouted. "We don't need him coming down here, this is already fucked up enough! This already…"

"I'm sorry, but I need you to focus! I can't do this alone and I need your expertise!" Then Kov drew back, and with his fingers folded into a fist, landed one, right in his friend's head. "Now focus!" he said.

Trip stumbled back a few steps before he recovered, the other crew members looking on with their mouths hanging open. He blinked a few times, then looked at Kov.

Kov knew his strength compared to that of a Human, so though by Vulcan standards he had only tapped his friend, still, he worried that he could have injured him.

"O-okay…sorry," Trip finally said, holding his head, staggering around a bit. Then he stood up straight. "I'm sorry! Damn!" he said and shook his head. Then he went to work.

The ship was able to restore its warp containment field and jump to warp seven. They outran the ship that attacked them without having to fire a single shot.

Later, Kov tried to apologize to Trip for punching him, but he wouldn't hear of it. He was just glad and kind of surprised that the Vulcan was able to help him get his focus back by literally knocking some sense into him. Kov later shared his little trick with Malcolm.

Back at the Compound.

Hoshi couldn't believe her eyes. V'Shele was standing there wearing a Starfleet uniform, her skin lightened and her hair longer, now darkened and in a ponytail. Hoshi sat up on the bed and stared at her.

"You like it?"

"What are you doing?" Hoshi asked.

"Turning into you, of course." The reply came with a flashing grin.

"That's absurd."

"Oh this is only the beginning." V'Shele gloated. "I'm getting your face, the whole nine yards, didn't the doctor tell you? A complete transplant."

Hoshi was mortified, but she was determined not to let her true feelings show, so she remained calm."You still won't be able to take my place. Everyone will know that you're not me."

"No?" V'Shele said. Then she did something that made her prisoner's flesh crawl. She spoke in a voice that sounded exactly like Hoshi's. Then she laughed.

"Like it?" she asked. "I can mimic almost anyone. You are especially easy."

Hoshi hesitated for a moment. She remembered what V'Lyn had told her, that V'Shele really didn't want to harm her, that she was just playing mind games with her, but she wondered if that was so. "You still…you can't pull it off," she said. "I have certain skills, unique to myself. I'm the only person at Starfleet who's capable of doing the job I do."

Then V'Shele turned on the computer screen. It was divided into four screens with various symbols and codes on it: languages. "What do you see?" she asked.

"Four different dialects, ancient…"

"Yes, ancient dialects. Aenar, Vissian, Voltarian and C'Darzian."

"Anyone could have told you that," Hoshi replied, recognizing three of them herself.

"That is true," V'Shele agreed. "You pick a language from your database. I'll grant you access, and I'll translate it for you." Then the two women just stood staring at one another. Hoshi could tell she was not bluffing. "Engineering is not my only talent or achievement my dear Hoshi. I have many, and becoming you will be my next one, my greatest."

The young Starfleet officer stood there as a chill ran through her. This woman was serious. This was her plan, this was the assignment she kept talking about. "Even…even if somehow your plan succeeded," Hoshi said trying desperately to hold on to her voice. "Even if you did take my place, you wouldn't be me and he would know. He would somehow know! And he would never love you. You can't make someone love you!"

Before Hoshi could say more the madwoman rushed her and grabbed her by the throat. "He WILL love me again!" she growled. "He will! While you die or, or rot away in a prison with MY face. I don't care which! But he WILL love me! Or I'll cut his fucking heart out!" Then she pushed Hoshi to the floor.

The distraught lieutenant lay in the floor holding her neck, then looked up at her tormentor. "You're insane," she whispered, with tears in her eyes.

"Perhaps," V'Shele replied. "But no true genius ever had the luxury of or burden of sanity, hmmn?" Then she smiled and left the room.

Hoshi put her hand over her mouth and let the tears fall.

Space Station, Deep Space Five.

Near Coridian.

When the _Excalibur_ arrived at the space station for their meeting with Malcolm's contact, much to his surprise, Trip was also met by a contact of his own.

T'Pol slapped him right across the face, gentle enough (by Vulcan standards) not to really hurt him, but forceful enough that he stumbled backwards. Trip fell onto the table at the restaurant

where they were to meet Malcolm's contact, a rogue Romulan operative.

"Okay," he mumbled as he picked himself up, holding the side of his face. "The next person that slugs me is going to get their fuckin' head knocked off! What the hell was that for T'Pol?"

"For deceiving me, for taking on this dangerous mission, for putting your already damaged career at further risk, and for not including me!" T'Pol said. "This is very foolish and illogical!"

"Well, I think that just about covers it," observed Malcolm, who had sat calmly watching, his arms folded across his chest as though none of this was anything to do with him.

"You are being foolish as well Captain Reed," T'Pol replied. "But indeed very honorable."

"Oh, so he's foolish and honorable," Trip responded indignantly to that, "but I'm foolish and illogical!"

"He is attempting to rescue his mate. That is a noble undertaking. Foolish, but noble," T'Pol pointed out.

"How did you find us?" Reed asked her.

She glanced at him as though the question was absurd, which it probably was. "I spoke with Lt. Cutler and Commander Mayweather."

"Damn them!" Trip was still nursing the side of his face.

"And your mental shields are not intact," she said, looking at Trip, who frowned at her. "Before you were too far out in deep space, I was able to detect a portion of what you were planning. You simply can no longer block me out adequately."

"So you just chartered a ride and followed us here?" Malcolm said.

"Precisely," T'Pol replied. "A Rigelian cargo vessel."

"But with the coordinates we were given, we were attacked twice," Trip said. "How did your little vessel avoid any fire fights?"

"It was a vessel full of various animals being brought to auction at a nearby planetoid. Our route was slightly different."

"And you tolerated a boat full of alien animals to get here," Trip grinned. "Without a nasal inhibitor? I would have paid money to see that! That must have been one a hell of a ride!"

"You have no idea," T'Pol replied, with a slight but telling grimace. "Nevertheless, I am here, and I intend to be included in this rescue mission. Now, what is the plan?"

"We wait," Malcolm said. "According to my source, Hoshi was taken to a deserted outpost near the Gamma Quadrant, somewhere near Coridian and Tellar. From there a ship picked her up and the trail was lost."

"Who is this source?" Trip asked. "You've sure put a lot of trust in this person. I hope it's somebody you can trust."

"Hello Captain Tucker." A female dressed in a floor-length garment with a hood approached the party.

Trip turned quickly to face the woman, as the voice sounded very familiar. "Hey", he said, "you know me?"

"Indeed," the woman replied. "Viper, I'm glad you made it here in one piece. Commander T'Pol, it is good to see you."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Trip said. "Just who the hell are you, and how do you know who we all are? Malcolm, what is this? Who is this woman?"

"Perhaps we should sit, so as to not draw attention to ourselves," Malcolm suggested. Then they all slid into the booth. A waiter came over and took drink orders.

"I am curious," T'Pol began once they were alone again, turning to the newcomer, who was still covering her head and most of her face with the hood. "You have us at a disadvantage. You know us but you have not yet revealed your identity, though you seem very familiar."

With that, the young woman removed her head garment. Her smile was charming, and as real as the small, neat pointed tips to her ears.

Trip stared at her with squinted eyes. "Hey, hey!" he said.

"Ms. Brooks," T'Pol finally said. "Apparently, the reports of your death over a year ago on Krios Prime were greatly exaggerated."

"Gannet!" Trip said. "Shit! You're supposed to be dead! And…and how the hell did you get to be a Vulcan?"

"SShhh!" Gannet replied, holding up her hand. "Listen, I'm undercover."

"Undercover!" Trip said, though he lowered his voice obediently. "What the hell…!"

"Apparently, Ms. Brooks," T'Pol said, "there is more to you than meets the eye."

"I'll say," Trip added. "Mal, did you know about this? About her?"

The Englishman smiled. "I found out about her on Krios Prime, and believe me I was as shocked as you are. But Gannet is very good at what she does."

"Good at what she does!" Trip said, still having trouble believing what he was seeing. "So how long have you been a spy?"

"For as long as you've known me," Gannet said. "As far back as when you first met me…"

"As far back as Terra Prime?" Trip asked.

"Yes," Gannet replied.

"So you've never been a reporter?"

"Yes, and no. It's always been my cover."

"And Travis knew?" Trip went on curiously. "And he was okay with it?"

"He tried to be okay with it; that is when he found out about it. But no, he wasn't. That's why we're not together."

"And he's obviously not aware that you are alive," T'Pol added.

"No one knows but 'Viper' here, and it has to stay that way, understand?" Gannet said. "Look, what I'm doing here is just a favor for a friend and a contact. He helps me out and I help him out." Trip and T'Pol both looked at Malcolm, who returned their gaze calmly."That's the way this business works. If you guys got a problem with me, that's cool, I can be outta here in a flash!"

"No, no," Trip said. "Look, what you do with your life and your career is your business. We came out here to find Hoshi, so any way you can help, we're grateful."

"I am sure that you are aware that I was once a member of the V'Shar," T'Pol replied. "Therefore, I am in no position to judge you or your reasons behind choosing your current line of employment – or the tactics which you must engage in to perform the necessary functions of that employment."

"All right," Malcolm said, his mouth a little wry as though he suspected some of that was aimed in his direction too. "Let's get on with it then. What have you got for us?"

"Something really strange. It's almost like a riddle. And Malcolm, it was sent to SI, but no one knew what the hell it was or what it meant. Look at this," Gannet said opening up a PADD.

What she showed Malcolm made his skin crawl. It was an elaborate map which reminded him of the old 20th century crop signs that many people took to be hoaxes rather than alien maps. He had seen this configuration before, and it _was_ a map…a set of coordinates, and a location.

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" Trip asked.

"This could be anything. A language, a map, coordinates," T'Pol said looking at Gannett. "Are there any other clues?"

"Oh. My. God!" Malcolm had turned as white as a sheet. "I – I know who took Hoshi," he said, almost stumbling in his haste to get the words out, "and I know where she is! And we have to hurry, we have to hurry!"

=/\=

That Night.

Trip's Quarters.

T'Pol opened a duffel and took out several hypo sprays. "When did you run out of medication?" she asked.

Trip lay on top of the bed watching her unpack. "Three days ago," he replied.

"Malcolm informed me that you have had quite a few episodes of erratic and somewhat volatile behavior. I could sense it at times as well when you were unsuccessful at blocking me out."

"Well good for Malcolm and good for you too!" he snapped, sitting up quickly. "So Trip's an angry asshole! What's new! Don't you guys have anything else to talk about other than my…" He stopped himself and put his hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry," he said. "I…I can't stop myself. It just…happens." Then he looked away.

She'd stopped unpacking and now she walked over with a hypo and pressed it to his neck. "This should help," she said. "We need to meditate as well."

"I can't…can't focus. I've tried. I can't do it," he said in frustration.

"I will help you. Come," she said. Then she took pillows from her bag and put them on the floor along with some candles, and lit them. They assumed the position and began to meditate.

But she was sitting right across from him, just inches away and he hadn't seen or touched her in over a week now. He was trying to concentrate on the ocean because that was also a peaceful place that helped him relax, so he'd chosen to imagine it during meditation many times. But he kept seeing her naked on the beach.

Soon, he knew, she was seeing herself naked on the beach too. She kept trying to bring the images back to the white room, just for solitude, but it wasn't working.

Trip started to feel himself getting angry at her for pulling away from the image of the beach and she could feel his aggression. But instead of impelling her to temper his anger or to bring calm to the storm…it started to turn her on.

Suddenly, she leaped on him and pushed him over on the floor. They kissed deeply and aggressively. They rolled over on the candles; the flames were extinguished, but they both were burned a little by the wax. No matter, they were beyond feeling sensations of such little relevance. He then ripped her top off and began devouring her breasts.

He took both her hands and bound them together above her head and rolled on top of her, kissing her deeply as she groaned. Then she rolled him over and gained the advantage. She tore his shirt off and bit into the flesh beside his collar bone, drawing blood.

They stood up and wrangled off the bottom half of their clothing, him ripping off her underwear. Then pushing her into the wall and lifting her up it, dislodging the picture that was hanging there so that it fell to the floor and shattered, unnoticed by either of them. And she tore into his flesh with her fingernails and screamed with wild abandon as they rocked it hard and rough against the east wall. Then the floor again…then on the bed…and in the shower…and on the west wall…and on the bed. And it wasn't even a _pon farr_.

=/\=

The next morning when they showed up for breakfast in the mess hall, they both looked as if they had been in a cage fight. They were battered and bruised and looking a little embarrassed.

When Malcolm saw them he was about to take the last gulp from his cup of tea, but he stopped in his tracks.

"I'm not even going to ask," he said, waved his hand at them and walked away.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve.

Jon was thoroughly ticked off. Phlox had just informed him that he hadn't seen or heard from Trip in over a week. He had missed all of his appointments and had not picked up any of his medication but it had mysteriously disappeared a few days ago. In addition, the Vulcan Priest on Earth had informed Phlox that Trip had never even contacted him at all about taking those classes he had been expected to take either. To top it off, Trip was nowhere to be found. T'Pol had made arrangements to go to Vulcan for leave, but had canceled her plans abruptly right before her transport was scheduled to depart. Her whereabouts were unaccounted for as well.

That left Malcolm. Although he couldn't be located either, that that didn't _necessarily_ mean anything. He could have gone away somewhere to relax. Yeah right! So, no Trip, no T'Pol and no Malcolm. That was not good. In fact it could mean only one thing. Jon decided he had to try and get some answers. Therefore, he would start with the people who knew them best, the original crew of _Enterprise_.

Columbia.

Erica's Ready Room.

"I'm telling you Erica," Jon said as he paced up and down the floor. "They've just dropped off the face of the Earth. Trip's family don't even know where he is, haven't seen or heard from him. Same for Malcolm's family. I've also spoken to Soval. He was to meet with T'Pol two days ago on Vulcan. Apparently she canceled abruptly, saying something urgent had come up and she had to attend to it immediately."

Erica just sat behind her desk, listening patiently and watching him pace the floor. "Well, they're on leave. Maybe they went on vacation."

Jon spun on his heel to face her. "Do you think this is some kind of joke?" he scoffed. "I think you have a pretty good idea of where they are. My question for you is _what_ _exactly_ do you know about it?"

"I beg your pardon?" Erica looked incredulous.

"I know you and T'Pol talk," he said in an accusing tone. "So I would suggest that if you have something I need to know, you start talking, Captain!"

"Commodore, I haven't spoken to T'Pol since we first got back from the front. I don't know anything. In fact, I have no idea what you're even talking about, and quite frankly I resent the implication… _sir!_ "

Then they just stared at one another for a few moments.

Jon was the first to look away. Then he placed his hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry," he said at last, wearily. "It's just that Phlox told me that Trip hasn't shown up for any of his treatments. That he hasn't shown up for any of those classes he was supposed to take either."

"Well, Commodore, I'm sure that's none of my business," Erica replied, still sounding slightly offended. "Was there something you wanted to discuss about _Columbia_ before I transport down for shore leave?"

"No," Jon said. "Other than, I need to speak to Lt. Commander Mayweather. Has he left for shore leave yet?"

"No," she answered. "But he's leaving any time now. I'll see if I can catch him." Then she reached for the comm and sent out a ship-wide message for Mayweather to meet her in her ready room right away.

About ten minutes later, Travis arrived. He looked curious when he saw Commodore Archer there as well.

"You wanted to see me ma'am?" he asked upon entering the room. "Commodore," he said, acknowledging his CO.

"Yes, Travis. Have a seat," Erica began. She waited until the young man had sat down in the chair across from his captain's desk, and then she continued, "Travis, I need to ask you something. And you might want to think very carefully how you answer."

"Ma'am?" Travis looked slightly apprehensive.

"Do you have any idea where Malcolm, Trip and T'Pol are?"

The young officer didn't answer right away, but laced his fingers together in front of him as he rested his hands on his lap. "Captain, I have never made it a habit of lying to my COs and I don't intend to start now. I wasn't planning on volunteering any information, but since I'm being asked point blank, I'm not gonna lie either. They've gone after Hoshi; they're trying to rescue her."

"What!" Jon said, his face flushing with anger. "How do you know that?"

"I had an unfortunate run-in with them before they left."

"A run-in?" he said. "Travis, I think you better start from the beginning and tell me what the hell's going on!"

The ex-boomer sat back in his seat. When he spoke, his voice was steady. "There's nothing to tell really, sir. I caught them boarding a ship and I confronted them. They tried to lie their way out of it, but I knew what they were doing and I insisted on going along."

"Insisted on going along!" Erica interjected, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, but they made sure I was excluded. Said I had too much to lose. Then they pretended to agree to let me come; actually Captain Tucker was still arguing against it. But it was Reed who pretended to agree…then as I was boarding the ship, he stunned me in the back!"

"What?" Jon said. "He assaulted you!"

"No," Travis replied. "I don't care about that. I'm not pressing charges."

"No? Well _I_ am!" Jon snapped. "I told them to stand down! I ordered them not to go after Hoshi! Trip is supposed to be here undergoing treatment for his brain injury and taking those classes down at the Vulcan embassy! I ordered him!"

"With all due respect sir," Travis answered. "But did you really _order_ Captain Tucker to participate in that treatment, to take those classes?"

Jon looked at the young man oddly. "Excuse me, Commander?"

Erica just watched the exchange in silence.

"Did you order him to do it…or was he _advised_ to do it?"

"We talked about it," Jon replied warily, surprised at the young officer's boldness. "We discussed it."

"But can you really order someone to do something while they're officially on leave?"

"Travis, I don't know what you think you're doing, but you'd better be very careful. I don't like your tone and I don't like your attitude at the moment. That's something I never thought I'd be saying to you."

"I'm not trying to do anything sir," Travis replied seriously. "But there _is_ something you might want to think about."

"And that would be?" Jon asked, his patience with the usually easy-going helmsman wearing thin.

"Well sir, if I were in their shoes I'd be thinking ahead. And if it were me, I'd get a lawyer."

"What?" Jon and Erica chorused.

"Yes sir. If it were me, I'd talk to a lawyer. And I'd argue that a. under Starfleet regulations, a superior officer can't order a subordinate to do anything while officially on leave. And in this situation, when the Captains left space dock, leave had already begun. So technically, they're on vacation. b. I'd argue that no Starfleet property or resources were used in this venture, so no rules were actually violated. That's what I'd do anyway," Travis concluded calmly. "If it were me."

The commodore was getting more and more ticked off at Travis by the minute. He was being passive-aggressive and Jon didn't like it. "Are you _defending_ them?" he finally asked.

"No sir," the ex-boomer replied with a slight frown. "Actually I'm really ticked off at both of them. I mean, I know they thought they were protecting me by excluding me, but I don't need their goddamned protection!"

Jon and Erica bristled a bit at that.

"I apologize sir, ma'am," Travis said immediately. "But those two can make you mad enough to spit fire!"

"Yeah, tell me about it," Jon said. "Alright. Look, Commander. You do want to make full Commander and Captain someday, am I right?"

"Yes sir," Travis replied.

"Then don't ever withhold valuable information like that from me again, understand?"

"Aye sir."

"Dismissed."

=/\=

 _Excalibur._

"Come on, you need to drink just a swallow or two."

"N-no," she whispered.

"Why not?" he asked. "You need it."

"W-why are…why are you…doing this," she stammered.

"Because you need help, and I'm the only one here."

"Let me…die."

"You know I can't do that."

"You…bas…tard," she stammered.

"That's me, love," he grinned. "Now drink."

Malcolm tossed and turned on the bed, trying to wake himself up from the dream, but so far his efforts weren't paying off. He felt as if he was suspended in this familiar dreamscape, but as always, it seemed real and he wasn't certain if it was really happening or not.

"How the hell am I going to get us out of here?" he whispered to himself. Then suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching – but she'd seemed so ill just seconds ago! Perhaps she'd found the will to finally try and get out of bed. But when he turned to meet her eyes, he was startled by something cold and sharp tearing into his flesh.

"What– what the hell have you done!" he said as he grabbed his right side. The hand, when he raised it, was covered with blood.

Malcolm woke with a loud, terrified gasp! He realized he was practically shouting out loud and wrestling with the covers on his bed. In the effort to calm himself, he took a few deep breaths then threw his legs over the side of the bed, bent over and held his head in his shaking hands. He was practically exhausted.

"What the hell is this bloody thing supposed to mean anyway?" he whispered to himself. And he knew there would be no more sleep tonight.

=/\=

Later That Day.

The Ship's Ready Room.

T'Pol and Gannet were on the bridge, giving Trip and Malcolm some down time. They were getting close to the planet where Malcolm believed Hoshi was being held.

"Feeling better?" Malcolm asked his friend with a smirk, not bothering to ask permission before dropping into one of the seats opposite the captain's desk.

"A lot," Trip replied, rubbing his jaw, which was still sore from the punishment it had received. "I hate to admit it sometimes, but I really need T'Pol. If she hadn't brought me those meds and helped me meditate, I'd probably be swingin' from the rafters by now."

Malcolm laughed a little. "Actually, I was quite happy to see her myself. I was a mite concerned that you were becoming unglued."

"What about you?" Trip asked. "You look worn out; still not sleepin', huh?"

"Very little."

"Your nightmare?"

The Brit nodded tiredly. "It's become even more intense since we've been out here."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"At least we're out here though. We're doing something. And I have every confidence we can rescue Hoshi. We have to."

"We will," Trip replied. "We've come too far to fail." Malcolm nodded in agreement. "But one thing I don't understand, Mal. How'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"How to read that weird star chart and what it meant? Gannet said no one at SI could make heads or tails of it."

The Englishman got up and poured himself a cup of tea, then sat back down at the desk across from his friend. "Allison showed it to me, Trip. When she and I were traveling to Krios Prime last year and we were alone on that shuttlecraft for three days, she showed it to me. She was trying to get me to agree to come away with her to a planet she knew about. She said it had been abandoned and was very well hidden. It was the perfect hideout; the place where she retreated to when she wasn't 'working' _,_ so to speak."

"So she just lives there alone, like the crazy woman we all know she is!"

"No. It's sparsely populated. And she had built a small community of loyal followers. A compound of about twenty or so people."

"You tellin' me that nutcase has twenty friends?"

Malcolm laughed a little at that. "No. It's a collection of mis-fits. Assorted criminals, victims that she elected not to assassinate. She decided instead to imprison them on that planet in service to her."

"She's a piece of work, that's for sure," Trip replied. "But Mal, are you sure she won't hurt Hoshi? I mean, what if she already has? How do we know if she's even still…"

"She's alive!" the Englishman spat. "She has to be!"

"You're right," the engineer quickly agreed. "She _is_ alive. And we're comin' to get her!"

Suddenly the comm sounded. _"Captain, this is the bridge,"_ T'Pol said.

He reached over and pressed the desk unit. "Cobra here."

Malcolm smirked and shook his head at that.

" _We are approaching the planet's surface."_

"On our way," Trip said. He and Malcolm then rose hurriedly and made their way to the bridge.

=/\=

It was a forbidding planet called Capella Prime, small and hidden behind clouds so thick they seemed to possess a life of their own. Several large moons were in orbit but they were uninhabitable. The planet itself was beautiful, however, the landmass onto which the shuttlepod descended as richly vegetated as a tropical island. Birds similar to macaws and parrots flew overhead as the landing party ventured cautiously out. Others similar to flamingos and pelicans swam and walked around in the ponds and small lakes they observed as they walked through the heavy forests. It was so overgrown that they had been unable to land the shuttlepod close to any of the buildings still standing. There had once been a thriving city there, but it was now the ruins of a dead civilization. No one had inhabited this planetoid for hundreds of years until recently.

V'Shele had told Malcolm about the planet. It was a perfect place for a hideout, though it contained pockets of radiation heavy enough to kill if exposed to it. That was what had eventually killed off its inhabitants and anyone who had sought to colonize the planet. But her science team had been able to identify the sections of the planet replete with radiation and they had very carefully settled in areas that had little to no traces of it. They still took precautions, however. For one thing, they rarely went outside. When they did, they always ran tests of the atmosphere to determine the levels of radiation present. They also wore EV suits during such excursions, and that was out of necessity.

The away team consisted of Malcolm, Trip, T'Pol and Gannet, but also the weapons specialists 'Smith and Wesson', along with the Andorian engineer, Veena. She was also a trained medic so they thought it prudent to bring her along. Kov had stayed behind with the ship.

"This place looks like some people's idea of paradise," Trip remarked as they trekked through the terrain. "A nice place for a vacation."

"Sure," Gannet said as she hacked back some of the vegetation on the trail in front of them. "That is until the wind shifts and the radiation kills you, or when paradise reaches up and takes a bite out of your ass."

"What?" Malcolm stopped, looking at the woman walking next to him.

"What I told you guys back there in the shuttle was no myth," she replied. "Some of these plants are actually flesh eaters, so be careful. I've been told they can even tear through an EV suit."

"So how the hell are we supposed to know which ones to avoid?" Trip almost shouted.

"Avoid the one that tries to eat you," Malcolm quipped back.

Gannet laughed and they walked on. A few meters more and they heard a strange cry. It sounded like a cross between the call of a large bird of some kind and a dog howling.

"Now what?" one of the weapons specialists demanded from the back of the party.

Gannet quickly drew her phase pistol, so Malcolm drew his. Seeing this, the rest of the party drew their weapons as well.

"Gannet," T'Pol began. "Are we to also assume that the other creatures you told us about, indigenous to this planet, are also more than myth?"

"Yes, Kai-yas might seem like harmless blobs. They range in size from a small bird's egg to the size of a large cat. But if you run into one just pass right on by it. Don't touch it, and for god's sake don't let it latch on to you for anything. They're blood suckers."

"So what happens if they latch on to you?" Malcolm asked, looking around warily and up into the trees.

Gannet looked at him, then lowered her pistol, re-holstering it. "They can take your form."

"What?" Trip said. "Take your form! Like clone you!"

"Just kidding," Gannet laughed.

Trip looked at her and rolled his eyes. "You're just a regular stand up-comedian, now aren't you?"

"Whatever," she said, still grinning. "No, those things will just sting the hell out of you and paralyze you. Someone else can get them off, but it hurts like hell, and you still won't be able to move for several hours."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Malcolm said. "We better find a place to make camp. It's getting dark."

"You're right. The last thing we want is to be out here in the dark," she told the group. "This is a dangerous planet."

"You think?" Trip grimaced.

"I'm detecting a building about three hundred meters over that hill," Veena said, gesturing.

"Any life signs?" Malcolm asked.

"No, sir," the Andorian replied.

"Sounds like a decent place to bivouac in for the night," the Brit replied.

When the crew came upon the building there was no one there. But someone had been there, recently. It had been like a fallout shelter, with an underground facility. There was food, clothing, beds, and supplies. It also contained a lab, and there had been experiments done. A couple of dead bodies had been left in the medical freezers. Some of the corpses had had their faces removed. Some had been burned away by phase pistol blasts, perhaps as punishment. Malcolm had seen that done before and it was V'Shele's signature. He knew they were getting close.

=/\=

Inside the Compound.

Hoshi had been thrown back in the cell in the basement of the building. By now she was exhausted, not so much physically, but from the sheer stress of the situation. She lay on the cold concrete floor and just stared up at the ceiling. She had cried so much over the last few days, though she had no idea how many days she had been there in all, that she felt she had no more tears to shed.

One of the large rat-like creatures crept from a hole in the wall, scurried over to where she lay and began drinking some of the standing water that had gathered in one of the small puddles in the room. He then ventured close to Hoshi and started to examine her. She wasn't even disgusted by the animal anymore. She simply watched it, and shooed it away from her when it tried to scratch her face and to bite her.

As she lay there, she noticed something: a small window near the ceiling on the east wall. 'Why would anyone put a window there?' she thought to herself. Then she sat up to get a better look at the window and wondered if it were big enough to squeeze through.

The east wall was made of large stones. She got up and went over to examine it, feeling the texture of it with her fingertips. She tried to figure out if the wall could be scaled. The stones might have enough space between them for her to grip and get a foothold if she positioned herself in the corner of the room.

Anything would be better than simply lying here tamely waiting for her fate. So she tried it.

At first she could only climb a foot or two from the floor before losing her grip then sliding down. "Don't give up, Hoshi," she said out loud. "This may be the key to your freedom." So she gathered herself and hoisted herself back up on the wall.

This time she made it all the way to the top. She found that the window had a latch and she reached up and over, and opened it. She began to have hope. Perhaps if she could hoist herself up enough to fit her body through the window she could get out. Being in the basement, she hoped that the window was on a level with the ground, so there would be no drop. If only she could get through it!

That hope was dashed when the linguist realized she couldn't position herself so as to properly push herself into the window opening. She looked back down at the floor from which she'd climbed, and for a moment feared that if she fell she would be seriously injured or killed.

"Don't look down," she whispered to herself. "Don't think about it, just do it." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Sweat had gathered on her forehead and had now started to run down the sides of her face. "Okay, okay…here goes." Then with as much force as she could, she swung her body and grabbed a hold of the window sill, and there she hung, no longer supported by the corner wall, just the grooves between the bricks, which wasn't much.

"Oh my God," she said. "Oh my God!" Then she tried to pull herself upward and into the window. She was able to get higher, then a little higher. But when she was high enough that she was finally eye level with what would be her escape route, she realized the window was too small for her to fit through. Her eyes immediately filled with tears as she hung on for a few moments more, then started to try and make her descent back down the wall. But she was so tired, the bricks were too slippery and she couldn't get a good foothold without the support of the corner wall. She fell.

She landed on the bed of rotten straw which had been left for her to lie on. It provided some cushion to break her fall, but not much. Initially, the wind was knocked out of her. When she was able to breathe again, she knew she was hurt. She thought perhaps she had cracked a few ribs and maybe broken her arm. Her whole left side hurt and was no doubt badly bruised.

She lay there and cried for more than a few minutes before she realized that the window was still open. That meant more indigenous creatures could come in; maybe there were snakes or something similar! Then there was the night air. She had heard the staff at the compound talk about how nice the planet's surface could be by day, but how it became bitterly cold at night. She had also heard talk of radiation drifting if the wind blew in the right direction. When she had thought about escaping, she'd been willing to take her chances. Now she just lay there feeling helpless, realizing how much more dangerous her situation had become. Then…darkness claimed her.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

The Next Morning.

When it was reported to V'Shele that Hoshi was injured, she went wild. She screamed and yelled, cursed and threw things; she even took out her phase pistol and shot a couple of her staff members.

"I told you idiots that I needed her to be healthy for the surgery!" she screamed at the doctor and his staff. "Now she has broken bones and possible exposure to radiation!"

"Mistress, the radiation levels in her system are very low," the doctor replied.

"It's still radiation! She could die too soon! Before that pretty face of hers is properly severed! What if she dies before they come for her? She has to take my place! She has to go to prison wearing my face!"

"Mistress, she needs treatment. It will only take a few more days for her to recover from the radiation sickness, perhaps a week…"

"We don't have a week! They're coming! They're on their way! They could be here anytime! The surgery was to be this morning! You said it would only take three days to heal! Now this!" V'Shele paced the floor back and forwards for a few moments.

"Can you treat the radiation in massive doses before the surgery, and after if necessary?"

The doctor and the medics looked at one another. "Yes, Mistress," one of the women replied. "But it would be very dangerous."

"Prepare her for the surgery!" V'Shele ordered.

"Mistress, I must advise against this," the doctor said. "That radiation is in her blood stream. The nerves and blood vessels that will need to be attached to you will immediately expose you to the radiation."

"You said it was minimal!"

"Yes, but…"

"I once survived being buried alive, you think I can't survive this?" the Romulan shouted. "Prepare her for the surgery!" Then she summoned her henchmen Samson and Goliath, and told them to kill everyone if _she_ didn't survive the surgery.

=/\=

Hoshi was moved into the operating room as the doctor examined her injuries and attempted to treat the radiation sickness.

V'Shele was just about to prepare herself for the operation when she was advised that alien life signs had been detected in the grounds.

=/\=

The landing party moved closer to the facility, ducking behind the crumbling statutes and shrubbery that surrounded it.

"Mr. Smith, we need to get in there," Malcolm said turning to the shorter of the two men providing the weapons.

"That's a lot of heavy metal alloy and a lot of concrete," Smith replied. "But if we can get in closer, I'm sure we can get a door open."

"If not we'll blow a hole in the front entrance, and you can waltz in," Wesson added with a grim smile.

"On most days I love a good blast myself," Malcolm commented with a wry grin of his own. "But I'd rather not make a premature announcement if we don't have to."

"See what we can do," Smith said.

"We'll cover you," the Brit stated. "Jet, T'Pol, look out for these two gentlemen. Trip, you're with me. Veena, stay here and keep a look out. First sign of trouble, give a shout."

"Aye sir," said the Andorian, as she stretched out on her belly just under the shrubs leading up to the main entrance of the building. She took out her scope and scanner and began to check out the landscape.

"So what are we doing?" Trip asked Malcolm as they ran crouching alongside the broken down wall that ran alongside the building.

"Trying to find a good place to wait and watch. Maybe we can catch a glimpse of something."

The weapons guys made it to the side of the building and climbed up a crumbling part of the wall as the women covered them. About eight minutes later, after using a hand-held laser type instrument, they were able to remove a portion of a large window on the west side of the building. Once inside they quietly removed the rest of the window to make access into the building easier for the rest of the team. Almost immediately, Malcolm's communicator chirped. It was Veena telling him the coast was clear and they could move in.

The team gathered at the foot of the crumbled wall and climbed up in their turn, entering a first-floor window to find themselves in an empty room.

"Nice job, guys," Trip grinned. "That seemed almost too easy."

"Getting _into_ the enemy camp is usually easy, it's when you want to get _out_ that presents a problem," Malcolm said. "Let's move." He gestured towards the nearest door. But as soon as they entered the main corridor, they were confronted by two very large guards. These were at least eight feet tall and packed at least four hundred pounds of muscle. They had very thick necks, which spread out like gills, large chests, and massive hands. In those hands, one of them carried a large sledge hammer and the other a five foot long machete. Each of them carried a huge bow and quiver of arrows across their back.

"Oh shit!" Trip said as they all stopped dead in their tracks.

"Intruders!" one of the men bellowed, and they both began to advance toward the team. Malcolm, T'Pol and Gannet wasted no time in drawing their phase weapons and began to fire upon the guards. But the phase pistols had no effect upon the monsters, who were fast approaching them.

"Run!" Malcolm shouted. They all turned and ran back the way they'd come. Gannet and T'Pol kept firing their phase pistols at the men, but they kept coming.

"Whadda we do now?" Trip shouted as he darted through a door that led to some kind of lobby and looked around vainly for cover. There was nothing, other than a couple of fancy columns part way across it.

"It appears we will have to stand and fight," T'Pol said.

"Fight!" Trip yelled. "How do you fight two monsters carrying things to chop you up with?"

"There has to be a way to bring them down," Gannet shouted from where she'd taken up position behind one of the columns.

"We have to find their weaknesses," Malcolm shouted from behind the other column. "In the meantime, Mr. Smith, Mr. Wesson, think of something!"

By that time the guards were charging through the doorway. One of them swung his big sledge hammer at Malcolm, who ducked and ran in the opposite direction. The column was split in half and debris went flying about.

"Good thing that wasn't your head!" Trip shouted as the other guard went to slice him in half. Trip did a flying leap and rolled over as the big man swung around looking for his prey to attack again.

T'Pol had picked up a brick the size of a cinder block from beneath the damaged window, and now flung it at the head of the guard trying to cut Trip to pieces.

"Oh oh, you've done it now T'Pol," Gannet said as the big guy turned and started to chase them.

The brute's fellow was now holding Malcolm upside down by the foot, and the other swung a blow with the sledgehammer that flung Gannett and T'Pol into the wall. Gannet was immediately knocked out cold, but T'Pol, though half-stunned, was still conscious. Trip had just leapt onto the beast's back and was attempting to strangle him with a cord, but his massive neck seemed to be unaffected. He flicked Trip off him like a bug.

Malcolm had managed to kick his opponent in the face with his free foot and stab him in the thigh with the knife in his belt. It was enough to cause a distraction so he could free himself from his captor's grip. The huge man stumbled a moment, but shook the attack right off and started after Malcolm as he started to run away. Fortunately the Brit was light on his feet, but the room was relatively small, and didn't offer much room to maneuver.

"Damn these guys are strong!" Trip gasped from the floor. "What the hell are they anyway? They can't be human or Romulan for that matter!"

"Awww, I see you've met Samson and Goliath!" V'Shele stood in the doorway leading into the main corridor.

"So you finally showed yourself!" Malcolm shouted. "Care to join the party?"

"Our time will come soon enough my dear _Captain_ Reed," she said. "That is if you survive the fight!"

"Be with you in a few minutes then, love!" Malcolm called back as he dodged a swing at him from Samson.

"Samson! Goliath!" V'Shele commanded. They both stopped immediately, turned and looked at their mistress, who stared at Malcolm for a long moment. "The dark haired one," she said pointing at the man she was staring at. "Bring him! The rest- k _ill them!_ " she shouted, then turned and disappeared behind the massive double doors.

"Oh no!" Trip wailed. "You mean they weren't trying before?"

By this time Smith and Wesson had recalibrated the phase rifles phase rifles strapped to their backs. They immediately started firing upon their attackers. It wasn't a minute too soon either; the monsters had started to target Malcolm, and he was running out of options.

The new weapons had an impact. Even though the weapons were on the kill settings, it caused Samson and Goliath to only stumble and stagger, but it was enough for the team to gain some leverage.

In the meantime Gannet regained consciousness by now and had scrambled to her feet. "What did I miss?" she asked.

"The appearance of our main adversary," T'Pol replied, trying yet another of the doors that led off the lobby. So far all of them had been found to be locked.

Just then, Veena put in an appearance, maybe drawn by all the noise. She opened one of the double doors and came running in to where the fight was taking place.

"Veena!" Trip shouted when he noticed her. But it was too late. Goliath had taken his sledge hammer and flung it at her. It struck the Andorian in the head, which exploded like a melon.

"Noooo!" Trip screamed as the others gasped.

At that moment, they were fueled with anger.

"Time to kick some ass, Viper!" Gannet shouted as Malcolm skidded to a halt beside her.

"They're starting to weaken!" Smith snarled, giving their two attackers another blast. "This phase stream seems to be draining their strength!"

"Good!" Trip yelled. "Cause it's time to end these fuckin' Frankenstein monsters, or whatever the hell they are!"

"Your call, Viper," Gannet said.

"Listen up, everyone! We need to work as a team," Malcolm shouted. "Smith, you and Wesson hold a steady stream on those bloody ogres till you see us make a move! Trip, you and T'Pol take the big one. Gannet you and I will take the other big one. Get creative, people, and _find a way to take these bastards down!_ "

Malcolm and Gannet ran around to the other side of the room as the weapons experts kept blasting their assailants with phase fire.

" _Now!"_ Malcolm yelled and the vicious streams of energy cut off. Gannet then attacked Samson from the back, leaping upon him as he staggered and whirled around. She then took her dagger and started to stab him in the neck. Even though it was thick and seemingly impenetrable, the blade eventually hit a spot that caused the creature to cry out loud. At that moment, Malcolm leaped upon him and used his phase pistol to pour a steady stream of fire directly down the giant man's throat. It took a few moments, but eventually, he fell over, dead.

T'Pol had also leaped onto Goliath's back. He whirled around and tried to dislodge her, swatting at her with his enormous hand. He successfully threw her off once, but Trip immediately cuffed his hands and she stepped into them and they propelled her back onto the demon. She then used her Vulcan strength to take ahold of the enemy's mouth. She eventually pried it open as Trip took one of the small explosive devices Wesson had given to him, no larger than a marble, and leaping on the big monster, shoved it into his mouth. Then he and T'Pol jumped but Goliath caught Trip's foot as he dropped.

"Trip!" T'Pol yelled, knowing what was going to happen next. Seeing the large man's machete lying next to him, she grabbed it and cut off the monster's hand at the wrist, eliciting a tremendous scream. She and Trip then scrambled away, barely making it behind a large planter. A few moments later, body parts went flying everywhere.

A few seconds later, they all paused around Veena's body. "Maybe we can collect her on our way out; take her home," Trip said sadly.

"That would be appropriate," Malcolm agreed, placing his hand on Trip's shoulder. "If possible." He then looked at the rest of the party and gestured for them to come on. They still had a job to do.

"All right people," the Englishman continued, not wanting to linger too long but still taking the time to peer carefully through the double doors through which V'Shele had disappeared. "I've got a date with a madwoman."

They moved through the corridor slowly, phase pistols raised, Malcolm leading the way. They pushed open a few doors, only to find them empty. He'd warned everyone to be very careful. He wanted no one to go in guns blazing. He didn't want to risk harming Hoshi, and if any way possible, he wanted V'Shele alive.

They finally entered a large chamber that looked like an operating room (or a torture chamber, depending on how you looked at it). It was a round room, with a medical table in the center, positioned just down six steps. There were doors in the chamber leading into other rooms, along with many shelves of books, medical equipment and the like. There was also a balcony, a tall flight of stairs revealing another level in the chamber. Apparently it was designed for observers to either watch the surgery or the torture.

Then it happened: phase pistol fire. Fortunately no one was hit, and they all dived for cover.

"V'Shele!" Malcolm called out into the air from his hiding place. "I know you're here and I know you were expecting me!" But she did not respond at first.

"I see you survived the fight," she finally called out from somewhere above them.

"As you knew I would!" he shouted back looking toward the balcony. "Where's Hoshi? You knew I would come for her! So I'm here!"

"Of course I knew you would, you pathetic fool!"

"I want to see her! That she's still alive!"

"She's alive! You think I'd waste my best weapon to use against you?"

"Then let me see her!"

"No!"

"Then my friends and I are going to tear this place apart and I'm going to cut you down to size AGAIN! And take you back with me AGAIN – to face the justice you deserve!"

"You can't capture me Malcolm! I told you before you'll have to kill me to do that!"

"I did it before, I'll do it again!"

"But you didn't have the balls to kill me before! Or was it because you felt something else for me, my love?" The sneered words echoed in the empty space above.

"I will never feel anything for you except contempt, _my love!_ And I will take you in!"

"Never!"

"It is illogical for you to try and reason with her," T'Pol said quietly. "She is beyond reason."

"That's for damn sure!" Trip agreed. "Let's smoke her ass out and take her down!"

"I told you, I want to take her alive if at all possible," Malcolm replied, his face hard. "Besides, we still don't know where Hoshi is."

"If you want, we can bring that balcony down," Wesson said to Malcolm as his eyes sparkled with excitement.

"And what would that do? Kill Hoshi, who may well be up there with that snake, and everybody down here in the process!"

The man looked down sadly. "I was just saying we could, that's all."

Malcolm and Trip looked at one another and rolled their eyes as Smith smacked Wesson on the back of the head.

"Listen, V'Shele," Malcolm called, raising his voice again; but his tone had changed. "You know it's me you want! I hurt you…hurt your pride, and now you want to hurt me back! I made you think I cared for you. I made love to you, and then I turned you over to Starfleet to lock away forever knowing that, _that alone_ would kill you! And I know you want to hurt me for what I've done to you. So let Hoshi go, and I'll come out!"

There was silence for a moment. "You mean trade yourself for her?"

"Isn't that what you wanted? Me to do with whatever you willed? Well I'm here, so what say I come out and the two of us settle this."

"What about that goddamned Tucker?" V'Shele shouted. "I want him too! Nothing elaborate, I just want to fucking shoot him between the eyes or blow his head off or something! I'm not stupid, I know he's here, so you have to give him up too!"

Trip tried to argue with Malcolm that he would surrender himself as well, but the Brit wouldn't hear of it.

"No way, _my love!_ " Malcolm said, "Forget it, deal's off. You don't get Trip! This is between you and me I'm afraid!"

There was silence.

"It was worth a try!" V'Shele said, her voice sounding closer. She had moved closer to the edge of the balcony with Hoshi, holding a phase pistol on her as her minions followed close behind.

Malcolm peeped into the open and seeing what was happening, slowly edged out of cover as well. Trip, T'Pol, Gannet and the others all followed close behind, holding their weapons on their opponents as they slowly emerged and faced off.

"So here we are," V'Shele said as she held Hoshi by her hair, which had been cut short and died dark red. Hoshi was bound with her hands behind her back, and gagged, and she didn't look well.

"Yes, here we are." Malcolm nodded, his gaze on his lover, who stared helplessly back at him, shaking her head. "If she is hurt in any way…"

"Any harm she suffered was self-inflected I assure you," V'Shele said.

"She had better not…" Malcolm started, then bit his lip. "If she doesn't make it, I will make it my business to see that you pay for it personally."

"After today my love," V'Shele countered, "she will no longer be of concern to you."

"Well then, let's get this over with!"

"Malcolm, this is crazy!" Trip said, low-voiced.

"I know what I'm doing," Malcolm said calmly. With that, he walked into the center of the room and put his weapon on the floor. He put his hands on his head. Trip followed a few feet behind him, also unarmed.

With one of her thugs at either side, V'Shele then personally led Hoshi onto the balcony elevator, just an open platform protected by a single rail on each side. She led the injured woman to the center of the room and pushed her over to Trip, who caught hold of her before she hit the floor.

V'Shele's henchmen quickly took a hold of Malcolm, as Trip quickly took the gag off of Hoshi's mouth.

"No Malcolm!" she cried out in a weak voice, "Don't do this! This is… what she planned all along! I'm dying anyway, don't do it."

"I want a moment with her," Malcolm insisted.

"No!" V'Shele sneered.

"What difference will one moment make," he spat. "I just want to say goodbye…then, I'm yours to do with me what you will."

V'Shele just stared angrily.

"Let him say goodbye, goddamn it!" Trip yelled.

V'Shele shot him a look and for a moment it seemed as if she might try and get a shot off at him.

"Don't even think about it," T'Pol said, raising her weapon pointing it directly at V'Shele's head.

"Shoot me and you all die," the Romulan replied.

"Yes, but I will die with the satisfaction of knowing that I rid the universe of a menace," the Vulcan snarled.

V'Shele could tell she was serious. "Two minutes!" she growled at Malcolm, nodding to her thugs to release him.

With that, he turned and hurried over to Hoshi lying in Trip's arms. "Hi there, sweetheart," he said to her with a little smile.

"Malcolm, I'm s-sorry…I'm so, so sorry," she said softly.

"SSShhh, save your energy," he said taking her hand in his. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You haven't done anything wrong... but love me, that is."

"Our love could never be wrong," she said, lifting her hand to his face and tearing up. "But now, I'm never going to see you again am I?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Malcolm whispered to her under cover of a kiss. "I just want you to let Trip take you back home, and for you to get well, OK. Will you do that for me?"

She nodded her head yes, through her tears. "And I want you to remember that I love you. No matter what," he said.

"Time's up!" V'Shele shouted. "Take him!" she instructed her guards.

"You evil, crazy-ass, stupid, ding-bat bitch!" Trip swore at her.

She shot him a look. "You better get her out of here before I change my mind," she sneered, gesturing at Hoshi.

"You raggedy-assed, dumbass, third-rate, so-called fuckin' engineer!" Trip continued to taunt her. "You knew you were never gonna cut it as a part of MY crew, baby! No wonder you became a terrorist, you didn't have any other options!"

With that V'Shele drew her weapon and placed it at Trip's head. But his was pointed at hers as well. So there they stood.

"Trip!" T'Pol shouted.

"Kill him, V'Shele, and you don't get me. Is that what you want? Is that what you put all this in place for? To fail?"

"Shut up Malcolm," Trip said. "I'd love to blow her fuckin' head off!"

"You're not going to shoot her," Malcolm said to Trip in his best authoritative voice. "And she's not going to shoot you either," he stated confidently to V'Shele. Then he kissed Hoshi on the lips and rose up. "Let's go," he said taking a hold of the volatile woman's arm.

"Malcolm, this is getting out of control," Gannet said.

"I know what I'm doing," Malcolm snapped. "Trip, get Hoshi out of here. Take her back home- promise me! Get her back home, no matter what!"

"I promise!" Trip said as he started to back away still staring at the woman Malcom was holding onto.

"Take him!" V'Shele said, and her men rushed over and grabbed him.

"Now go! Go!" Malcolm shouted as they dragged him away. "I love you, Hoshi!" he said, staring back at her while he still could. "I always will, remember that, just remember that!"

"No!" Hoshi screamed and tried to struggle. "No, we can't leave him! She's going to kill him!"

"Hoshi, we have to go!" Gannet said. "Trust me, Malcolm knows what he's doing!"

"No! I won't leave him! No!" She continued crying out.

"T'Pol!" Trip said desperately. He couldn't stop Hoshi from struggling without risking hurting her more. With that, T'Pol neck-pinched the distraught woman and she fell unconscious. Trip then lifted her and they fled from the room.

Later.

When Malcolm woke up he was on a shuttlecraft with V'Shele and two of her henchmen. He had no idea where he was or where they were taking him. Why he wasn't already dead, he didn't know either, he just knew she hadn't kept him alive out of kindness so he had to get away.

He tried to think. He knew V'Shele was crazy, but he also knew that in her mind, she was in love with him, so perhaps she didn't want to harm him. Or perhaps she was taking him to her own personal torture chamber. Worse still, knowing his identity, she intended to hand him over to the Empire for interrogation. At all costs, he had to prevent that from happening. He'd been trained in resisting interrogation, but who knew what the Empire had up its sleeve to inflict in pursuit of extracting information?

He had to find a way to sabotage the pod. Either they would all go down in a fiery ball or by some miracle someone would survive, and perhaps it would be him. But how to do it?

He was handcuffed to the back bench. One of the men was flying the shuttlecraft. The other lay with his head against the window sleeping, with a phase rifle loosely clasped in his arms, while V'Shele sat next to the pilot looking at a PADD.

Malcolm fiddled around in his mouth with his tongue and loosened one of his back molars. Then he bit down on the small item that had been concealed inside it, and started to moan loudly. Suddenly he started to convulse as if having a seizure. The tablet he had bitten started to foam around his mouth as V'Shele ran to the back of the shuttle.

She was skeptical, of course, knowing all of the old spy tricks, but when it came to Malcolm, her judgment was off.

"Help him you fool," she said to the man holding the rifle, who had woken up at the noise. He quickly hurried over and undid the handcuffs holding him down.

Malcolm immediately grabbed the phase rifle the man had leaned up against the wall just behind him and shot him with it. V'Shele leapt on him and they struggled in the back of the craft for possession of the rifle; the pilot tried to maintain control but seconds later was hit with a stray energy blast and slumped over the console – dead or just stunned, there was no knowing.

"Let me… let me get the… controls or we're both going to die!" Malcolm said as they fought. They hadn't left the planetary atmosphere yet; he saw the horizon cant upwards as the shuttlecraft's nose suddenly dropped.

"So be it!" she shouted.

They continued to fight as Malcolm tried to get to the controls. He punched V'Shele hard, but not enough to completely subdue her. She fell backwards, and he raced for the controls.

He dashed into the co-pilot's seat and tried to pull back on the throttle as hard as he could, but she grabbed him from behind, pulling him backwards with her forearm wrapped around his throat. Struggle as he might, he couldn't keep the vessel's nose up and the ground hurtled closer. They were going to crash. The shuttle craft went careening through the tree-canopy, losing height all the time, then bounced through some thick brush, finally skidding across a stony surface before coming to rest against a boulder with a loud, hard thud. They both were thrown against the console hard, then fell backwards.

She landed against one of the seats, then bounced against the back bench, and finally landed on the floor. Fortunately for Malcolm, he had landed perfectly into the seat just behind him, with just a few cuts and bruises.

It seemed that V'Shele, on the other hand, had not been so lucky.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The away team raced for the shuttlepod, not even bothering to try to recover the EV suits they had shed just outside the compound. There was no time. Trip had run carrying Hoshi until they were some distance away from the compound and heading back into the forest. Then he slowed down and dropped to his knees. The others stopped to rest for a few moments as well.

"Anybody…following us?" Trip gasped. But no one had a scanner anymore, so they just looked around as they tried to catch their breaths.

"Negative," Gannet answered, breathing deeply. "But she's not going to…just let us…go that easily. So we need to keep it moving."

"I'll take her," T'Pol said, and went to take Hoshi from Trip. But they were startled by the rustling of leaves in the brush just to the left of them. Trip and Gannet immediately drew their phase pistols.

They were startled when four young women and one man stepped out from their hiding place.

"Take us with you!" one of the women cried out.

"A Vulcan." T'Pol looked at her narrowly. "Who are you?"

"I am V'Lyn," she said. "I have been Hoshi's caretaker while she was here."

"Yeah?" Trip snarled in anger. "Some caretaker! She's hurt, sick, possibly dying! All the more reason I should blow you away right now!"

"Trip…don't," Hoshi gasped reaching a hand out towards V'Lyn. The young Vulcan woman hurried over to her and knelt in front of her.

"You know this woman, Hoshi?" Trip asked. "Is she on the level?"

"She…she was my only friend, s-she tried to h-help me."

Trip then lowered his phase pistol, but held it at his side.

"Oh Hoshi," V'Lyn started as she stroked the side of her face. "I am so sorry. I'd hoped that you would survive this ordeal."

"We need to go," Smith snapped. "Queen Bitch back there'll be sending out the troops any time now."

"He's right," Gannet agreed, looking back down the path toward the compound.

"Oh, take us with you too!" one of the other women begged. "Please! We are slaves to the Mistress!"

"We have been waiting years for an opportunity to escape," the young man added. "We don't want to die in this god-forsaken place with a madwoman!"

"How do we know you're not spies? Her little minions waiting for an opportunity to sabotage us?" Trip shouted. "I've got a good mind to end you right now!"

"Trip, no!" Hoshi said weakly. "They're telling the truth."

He glanced down doubtfully at V'Lyn, still crouching over Hoshi.

"I am a trained physician," the young Vulcan added. "At least, I used to be. I haven't practiced in many years, but I possess the skills. If you are in need of a physician to care for Hoshi, then it could be mutually beneficial to us all to bring us along. I have also with me a fine cook, two nurses and a repairman. We can work for you, then you can drop us anywhere you like after you leave this planet!"

Trip looked at T'Pol, who nodded slightly. "Alright!" he said finally, re-holstering his gun. "But the first time one of you gets out of line, or I find out you've lied to me, I'll kill you where you stand. Now let's move it, and you keep up or you die!" With that he gestured for T'Pol to bring Hoshi, and they were just about to take off when they heard footsteps running through the brush. Then phase pistol fire swept past them.

"Too late," Gannet said. "Go, all of you! Mr. Smith, Mr. Wesson, I need your help!"

Trip and the rest of the party started to run as Gannet and the two men stayed behind, fiddling with items from one of their packs. A few minutes later the fleeing party along with their new additions heard a small explosion behind them. A few minutes later Gannet and the weapons guys had caught back up to them. There were no more sounds from behind; for the time at least, the pursuit had been dealt with.

"How...many more people in that compound!" Trip panted back at V'Lyn.

"About twelve," she replied, still running. "Most…most of the servants…scattered during your…fight with the giants…and your confrontation with Mistress!"

Trip then stopped running and bent over with his hands on his knees. Everyone else stopped as well, plainly glad of the respite. "We need to take another…route back…back to the pod," he gasped. "Throw 'em off our trail."

"Your scanning devices and other equipment will not work in the swamps," V'Lyn volunteered, not as winded as the others, being a Vulcan. "The _kai-ya_ s give off electricity which will disable your devices."

"But the _kai-ya_ s are very dangerous," the young man said earnestly. "You must not allow them to sting you."

"Yeah, we heard," Trip replied. "They'll paralyze you."

"Yes, they will. If they sting you in the chest cavity they can paralyze your lungs, your heart…that could prove fatal if not treated instantly," V'Lyn added.

"Whadda you think Gannet?" the engineer asked.

"It'll save us almost two miles back to the pod – we went around it on the way to the compound. But if the guards won't follow us in there, it may be worth the risk."

"T'Pol?" Trip asked warily. "Whadda you think babe, should we risk it?"

The Vulcan looked at Hoshi who had slipped back into a semi-conscious state. "She needs medical attention, and we are not prepared to fight off twelve trained guards, perhaps assassins. The risk is acceptable."

Trip then faced the rest of the group. "Listen up," he said. "We're goin' through this _kai-ya_ swamp then. You already know those things are dangerous, but from what we've been told, if we don't bother them, they won't bother us. This is our best option at the moment… So, let's move."

Then they started for the kai-ya swamp.

=/\=

Malcolm raised his head from the seat he had landed in. His forehead was bleeding from banging it against the console. He pressed his hand against it and held it there a few moments. His head hurt, and from the dizziness knew he might have a slight concussion, but other than that, he seemed fine.

He got up from the seat, staggered over to the pilot and felt for a pulse. The man was dead.

He knew that he had to act fast in case the pod exploded. So he grabbed a back pack from the floor behind him and tried to open the door. This was stuck fast, so he banged against it with his shoulder and eventually forced it open. He jumped down to the ground, and from there grabbed another pack just under the seat near the door. Moving quickly, already in survival mode, he threw the packs away from the pod and scrambled back inside, trying to salvage as much as he could from the wreckage. Then quickly grabbed another pack, along with a bag, and threw them onto the ground before noticing the bloke he'd shot. Judging from the hole the phase blast had put in his chest and the sick way his head was angled against the seat he had landed by, this chap was definitely dead too.

He then heard a moan. It was V'Shele, and she was still alive.

Malcolm hesitated for a moment, but knew he couldn't leave her in the pod to die. So he slipped his arms under her armpits, lifted her and dragged her to the door. Then he got down, lifted her out of the craft and had just got to a distance where it would be safe to lay her down when the shuttlepod exploded behind him.

The blast knocked him to the ground with her in his arms. When the ringing in his ears cleared, he rolled clear of her and lay there on the cold ground for a moment. He had no idea where he was or what he would do next, but he had survived.

The Brit's training quickly kicked in as he surveyed the items he had retrieved from the pod; most of them had survived the explosion, if with a bit of scorching. He had to determine his next move, and act fast. That was to find shelter as it was cold and starting to snow a little.

The bag he had taken from the shuttle was a sleeping bag; 'That was a bit of luck,' he thought. He put V'Shele in it and went into the brush and found some strong, slender boughs and sticks. From those, he fashioned a make-shift sled, using ties made from ripping his undershirt in strips. He placed one of the packs on his back, and tied the other two to the sled. He then positioned himself so that he could pull the sled behind him, and he set out to find shelter.

=/\=

Trip's team moved slowly through the _kai-ya_ swamp. The ground and tree trunks were covered with the crystal-like creatures of various sizes. They looked exactly as Gannet had described them earlier, like boneless blobs, for lack of a better word. She had obtained the limited information about the planet from a Coridian associate. Apparently Coridan had considered staking claim to the planetoid and had sent a group of scientists to study it. Upon losing several people and weighing the risks against the projected benefits, the project had been abandoned.

The creatures seemed to be making cooing sounds and the team walked slowly around them, stepping over them and avoiding them at all costs. Although having no limbs, they seemed able to move with surprising speed when they wanted to, extending a couple of tentacle-like arms and pulling themselves along. A couple of times, several of the life-forms gathered around one or more of the away team members' ankle or calf as they walked along, but they had been instructed to gently brush them off and to not make sudden movements or react violently.

There was no trouble until they reached a particular clearing in the swamp where there were so many of the creatures that there was scarcely a place to step. That was when Wesson noticed that several of the animals had stealthily climbed up on to his legs and were heading for the lower half of his body.

"Aaagghhh!" he yelled, knocking two or three of the creatures off of him. "Get 'em off me! Get 'em off me!" He'd held up well until now, but he went into absolute panic, whirling around, kicking at the creatures as they lay on the ground.

"Stay calm!" Gannet admonished. "You're scaring them! They're going to attack!" But it was too late. Suddenly, there were _kai-ya_ s everywhere.

Trip, Gannet and Smith started shooting at the creatures as they crawled or jumped onto their victims; some flew at them, squealing and screeching as they did so.

" _Do not allow them to get a grip on you!_ " V'Lyn warned as she peeled off several of the creatures and flung them away.

"We gotta make a run for it!" Trip shouted.

With that, T'Pol flung Hoshi over her shoulder and started to sprint as best they could on the sodden, squelching ground, knocking off the creatures as they flew at her. Trip continued to run but every so often turned and fired at some of the larger creatures and helped to keep them off T'Pol and Hoshi as best he could.

When they were finally clear of the swamp, they all fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Trip looked around to account for his team.

"Where's Wes?" Smith asked, looking around frantically. "Oh no! He's still in there! Wesley!" the distraught man shouted and staggered back toward the swamp. _"Wesley!"_

V'Lyn then scrambled to her feet, also heading back toward the swamp. "Leah and Miles haven't come out either!" she cried out. "The _kai-ya_ s have them!"

"Wait!" Trip said. "V'Lyn! Get back here," he yelled. "Smith! Don't do it, you've already been stung. You can't go back!"

Smith held his left hand as everyone gazed at it. It had already started to turn red and swell.

"I'll go," Gannet said, lifting her phase pistol.

"I'll go with you," Trip replied.

"Trip! You need to get back to the ship!" T'Pol admonished him. "The ship needs you!"

"I'll be okay," he replied reassuringly at her. "Get everyone to the 'pod," he told her, and took off in a run with Gannet on his heels.

They raced back into the _kai-ya_ swamp, back to the clearing where they had been attacked. They arrived just in time to see Miles covered with _kai-ya_ s as he lay on the ground, no longer moving.

"We can't help him," Gannet said, and raced over to assist the young girl lying on the ground, conscious but clearly unable to get to her feet.

"I can't move!" she cried. "I can't move my legs! Please, don't leave me!"

"Get her!" Trip told Gannet. He looked around for Wesson who was on the ground just a few feet away, a _kai-ya_ attached to his face. Trip hurried over, peeled the blood-sucker off of the young man and helped him up with difficulty; he tried to speak but no words came, and his legs wouldn't support him. Trip immediately grabbed him and hoisted him over his shoulder, _kai-ya_ s already starting to gather around his feet.

"If we tread slowly and carefully, maybe they won't attack us again," Gannet whispered.

"And if we don't make a run for it, they may still attack us," Trip whispered back.

With that, Gannet started to move slowly, the younger girl on her back. They walked slowly, a few of the creatures flying at them, which they either avoided or gently tried to swat away. Most, however, had started to feed, and the hubbub slowly settled.

Finally, they made it back out of the swamp. But the rest of the team had moved on.

"I don't think he's gonna make it," Trip said as he lowered Wes to the ground. The man was unconscious now.

Gannet slowly eased the girl she was carrying to the ground as well, and came over to examine the injured man's wounds. She looked at his face and neck, and touched the blood spots on them.

"Most of the marks look pretty superficial," she said. "I don't think he was stung too badly up top. His legs look like a pin cushion though." There were blood spots all over his fatigues.

"Why is he unconscious then?" Trip asked, still trying to collect himself.

"Probably shock," Gannet said. "Cumulative effects of so many stings. We need to get going. A few of those things may just decide to venture out of the swamp. They do sometimes, you know."

"Oh God," Trip said, dropping to the ground. "I'm exhausted. Gotta have a breather. When is this day gonna end?"

After about five minutes of much needed rest time, they started to walk, but Trip was too tired. He stopped again within a few minutes, easing Wes down onto the ground once more.

"You can always leave him if you have to," Gannet said, looking at him sympathetically. "Nobody would blame you; you tried to save him."

Trip shook his head. "He's still alive and he…deserves a chance."

After about another five minutes or so, they lifted their crewmates back across their shoulders – both of the casualties were unconscious now – and started out again. After about ten minutes of walking in the direction of the 'pod, they heard a sound. Both Trip and Gannet stopped and immediately lowered Wes and the young woman to the ground. Then they drew their weapons. A few seconds later they saw some of the tree tops moving, then the shuttle pod came descending out of the sky.

"Oh thank you!" Trip said, in the general direction of the clouds. "We _finally_ catch a break!"

A few minutes later they were all crammed into the small shuttle pod with T'Pol at the helm. They were elated when they arrived back at the ship, though the elation was tinged with sadness. They had made it…some of them, anyway. And they'd done what they came to do, though at a cost.

The team safely entered the ship and exited the 'pod. Trip showed V'Lyn the way to sick bay and the injured were quickly taken there to be cared for. But something felt strange about the ship. Where were the crew that had been left behind?

=/\=

Trip called for Kov, who had been left on the bridge, but there was no answer. He then called engineering and received no response there either.

"This is weird," he said. "Where the hell is everybody?"

" _She_ must be here!" Gannet said, checking the internal scanners. "And it looks like she's holding everybody hostage on the bridge!"

"That is illogical," T'Pol replied. "V'Shele has obtained the one thing she wanted, Malcolm. She has the upper hand at the moment; why risk that by coming aboard the ship?"

"Because she's a nut!" Trip said and broke out into a run, T'Pol and Gannet on his heels.

When they reached the bridge however, they were in for another shock.

"Captain Chaos!" the helmsman grinned. "You finally made it back! I thought you guys had bought it down there."

"What are you doin' Steele?" the exhausted engineer asked. The man was standing there, heavily armed, while three other crew members held phase rifles on a bound and gagged Kov, and six of the remaining crew members. Two lay sprawled on the floor, either dead or stunned.

"What does it look like?" the man snarled. "I'm taking over this ship!"

"You gotta be kiddin' me!" Trip moaned, placing both hands on his head. "Just fuckin' great! Can't catch a break today, just can't catch a break!"

"There is no benefit to you in carrying out this mutiny," T'Pol retorted to the would-be pirate. "You are making a most unfortunate mistake."

"There's plenty benefit!" Steele snapped. "The money, _Captain!_ I want _all_ of it! You think I came all the way out here for a lousy 1/15th of what you're paying for this little venture! I want it all, me and my boys want it all!"

"You stupid son-of-a-bitch!" Trip shot back. "Me and Viper already paid you up front! The deal was you get the other half of your pay when we get back home! When the job was done! I don't have the money here on the ship!"

"He's lying," one of the other men said. "I heard him and Viper talking. The money _is_ on the ship, in a safe place. He just needs to tell us where it is."

Steele looked back at his former captain. "You're gonna take me to where you've got the money stashed," he said with a growl.

"I told you there's no mon…"

"Stop lying!" Steele screamed. "Or I swear you're gonna start picking up more dead bodies off the floor!" He gestured threateningly towards the two crewmen already laying there.

Trip grimaced at the prospect of more deaths today. "If I give you the money, will you let everyone go?" he asked wearily. "You can take the shuttlepod and go anywhere you like."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" the helmsman shouted. "That pod won't get me where I'm going! I'm taking YOUR ship, dear Captain CHAOS!"

The engineer bit his lip before speaking. "I'd appreciate it if you'd quit calling me that," he said his voice becoming unsteady.

T'Pol shot him a glance. "Captain!" she said. "Please remain calm. It is all right. Give him what he demands and I am certain he will spare our lives."

Steele looked at T'Pol and started to laugh. He looked back at his fellows holding the rest of the crew and laughed some more. "My dear lady," he began. "I applaud your efforts in trying to keep your lover calm. But we've already seen him in full rant, several times! We know he's fucking crazy! Now enough stalling Captain, I want the money!"

"Tell me what you're planning on doing with my crew and I'll take you to the money," Trip replied, doing his best to remain calm. "You can do what you want with me, keep me as a hostage, I don't care. I just want them to be safe."

"I'll be happy to beam you all down to the surface," he said with a grin.

"That planet isn't safe," Gannet began. "It has pockets of radiation, not to mention the other dangers down there. If you send us down there, you're sending us to our deaths!"

"And that's going to worry me, why?" Steele said, shrugging.

"That is most illogical, Mr. Steele," T'Pol interjected reasonably. "You and three other people cannot possibly run this ship. You need us to get you to the nearest star base. You can drop us off there and hire anyone you like to assist you in navigating the ship to wherever it is you plan on going."

Steele thought for a minute, then looked back at his men, some of whom nodded reluctantly. "I think the pretty Vulcan has a point," he said. "Alright! Captain, take me to the money, then you and just a bare bones crew will take us to the nearest star base. If we get there without incident, then I'll decide if you get to live or not. Now, take me to my money!" He grabbed Kov from the floor and put the gun to his head. "Move it!" he gestured toward Trip.

"Fine!" Trip said. "You want the money! I'll give it to you! As a matter of fact, I _do_ have it on the ship. And it's right here!" He thrust his hand into the breast of his jacket, and as Steele let Kov drop and stepped forward for the money, Trip drew his phase pistol and shot him full in the chest.

The force of the blast hurled the pirate backwards and he crashed into one of his henchmen. Gannet and T'Pol didn't waste any time drawing their weapons and firing on the other two mutineers before they could recover their wits. After a few minutes, Trip and his team had taken back control of their ship.

"I cannot believe you did that," T'Pol said to him as they went about releasing the rest of the crew from their bonds and restoring order to the ship. "You are not a trained marksman. You could have killed Kov, and had not Gannet and I acted swiftly, the results could have been disastrous. I do not understand why you would do something so illogical," she scolded.

Trip looked at her and gave her a very tired smile. "I had an irresistible impulse," he said, and walked away.

=/\=

Malcolm had been toiling onwards through the deepening snow for what seemed like forever. Dusk was falling fast. He was exhausted, and V'Shele on the sled seemed very heavy to him by now. By this time he wasn't certain how long he'd been walking, dragging her behind him. All he knew was that his feet hurt and he was freezing. The snow had really started to fall now, and he knew if he didn't find a cave or some place to take shelter in, he was not going to make it.

He thought about leaving V'Shele behind, but something wouldn't allow him to do it. He had checked her pulse several times, and she was still alive, so he knew he couldn't leave her, although he probably should. As he was contemplating what he was going to do, he spotted a small building through a stand of trees.

"Finally," he whispered, picked up the end of the makeshift sled and trekked on.

It was a log cabin, equipped with a fireplace and wood already cut. Malcolm carried the unconscious woman over to the bunk across the room and laid her on it. Then he hurried outside to retrieve the backpacks he had saved from the pod.

He checked V'Shele again to see if she was still breathing, and she was. Then he set about starting a fire. It took a while, because the small twigs he gathered for kindling were a little damp, but eventually the small flames started to lick around the wood. He watched the fire crackle and strengthen for a moment, then started to laugh a little. "Yes!" he said to himself.

Then he turned around to inspect the place. Suddenly, his heart almost leaped out of his throat as he recognized where he was. This was the place in his dream! He became nauseated for a few moments as he held his hand to his forehead.

How could he have not recognized what was happening? The shuttlepod crash, him saving V'Shele from the explosion; him dragging her through the woods for miles looking for shelter! This godforsaken log cabin! It was as if God or fate, or the universe had willed it! All those weeks of having that recurring dream, that deeply disturbing nightmare … of his own death. It had been a premonition after all, and he had done exactly as he had been pre-ordained to do, every step of the way!

He lurched over to the other side of the room and sat hard on the other bunk there. He held his head in his hands. Then he raised it quickly and rose abruptly. No bloody nightmare was going to determine his fate.

He suddenly ripped the dagger from his belt and rushed over to the unconscious woman…evil incarnate! He stood there shaking a moment, then raised the blade; and in his mind's eye, he could see himself plunging it into her. It would be no more than justice, for all those whose deaths she'd caused.

But he didn't do it. He couldn't. He just stood there holding the knife over her. He couldn't kill her…but why? Why couldn't he? Did he really care for her after all?

He shook his head. No, he didn't; he never had. But there was a reason she had to live. So he tossed the blade across the room, and heard it snap as it landed somewhere out of the reach of the firelight. Not Starfleet manufacture, just a crappy old thing he'd picked up somewhere along the way.

Then he went about unpacking the contents of the baggage he'd brought with them, because he had every intention of surviving. He worked diligently, surveying the items in those packs. It was as if his life depended upon every detail, every decision he would make in the most immediate future; and it probably did, because the time had finally come… he was living his nightmare.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 _Excalibur._

The ship was now headed back to United Earth space. The mutineers were locked in the brig and things seemed to be going smoothly, for a change. They had dropped Gannet off at the space station where they picked her up. She still had a job to do elsewhere and needed to get back to it.

V'Lyn was treating the injured with medical supplies they had picked up at the station. But she had warned Trip that Hoshi wasn't out of the woods and that she needed critical care. She was still suffering from radiation exposure and to top it off, one of her broken ribs had punctured her lung. She needed surgery, but neither the _Excalibur_ 's sick bay nor their physician was equipped to handle it. Trip had thought about seeking assistance for Hoshi at the space station, but it was risky leaving her in the hands of aliens. At least V'Lyn was familiar with human anatomy.

He had decided in the end that it was best to try and get her home at their fastest speed. Kov had warned the frustrated captain that traveling at warp seven continually was asking for problems; that there was even a possibility the ship could fly apart if overtaxed, without warning. Therefore, they had slowed to warp five for several hours, then revved it back up to warp seven at Trip's instruction.

It was late when T'Pol noticed that Trip was no longer in bed or even in their room. She reached out for him and found him in the cramped little space they called an observation lounge.

"You are distressed," T'Pol said as she approached him. He was leaning on a rail and staring out into space.

He looked up. "Oh, hey. I didn't wake you up, did I?" he asked with a slight frown.

"No, I was having trouble sleeping myself," she replied, placing her hand on his back as she stood beside him. "You're feeling guilty about leaving Malcolm behind, aren't you?"

Trip closed his eyes and looked down before speaking, then he turned and faced her. "I keep going over and over it in my head," he told her. "There had to be another way. I – I just can't believe Malcolm turned himself over to that, that crazy-ass…"

"Try not to get too upset," T'Pol said, reaching over and covering his hand with hers.

"Well I _am_ upset!" he said, raising his voice. "I shouldn't have let him do it! I should have made him let me go with him!"

"That is illogical thinking, _Adun_ ," she said. "We were outnumbered and would very likely have been defeated in a fire-fight with her people. In addition, Malcolm's sole objective was to save Hoshi's life. He accomplished that by trading himself for her…I am sure you would have done the same for me."

"Of course I would have," he answered, putting his arms around her waist. "I still can't accept the fact that he's dead, though… I guess he must be by now." By the pause, she knew he was conflicted by hoping this was true, sparing his friend some long-drawn-out, cruel fate, or hating the fact that this might be the best possible option for him. "I know I promised him I'd get Hoshi back home, and that's what I'm doing, trying to get her back home in time. I just hope this all hasn't been for nothing."

"She will survive. She's strong and she's in good hands."

"I'll just feel better when she's in Phlox's hands." He turned back again to look at the stars whizzing by, and there was another pause before he spoke again.

"I've got to go back T'Pol, you know that don't you?"

His lover didn't speak at first, she just looked over at him, sensing his distress and his deep sense of loss.

"I've got to try and find him," Trip said. "I have to know if he's dead or alive."

"I know," she said softly. Then there was silence.

"You know my days at Starfleet are over too, don't you?" he asked, without looking at her.

"If that is what you want…"

"It's not a question of what I want anymore, and you know it," he replied gently. "Even if I hadn't come out here with Malcolm to find Hoshi, I think we both know that the Starfleet hearing wasn't looking like it was gonna come out in my favor…And we both have to face the fact that my head is really messed up."

"You will undergo the treatment…"

"T'Pol," he interrupted. "I can take all the meds there are to take and try to learn to control my emotions too. And let's say I do, I'm successful at it. The fact still remains that I've got a messed-up brain and it's not going to get better. It's just gonna keep getting worse. Then one day, you're gonna wake up…and you won't be able to recognize who I am anymore."

"That is not true," she snapped.

"Yes, it is true. We've just not wanted to face that fact." He swallowed. "So listen, darlin', at some point, you might wanna make some decisions…"

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, becoming angry with the man she loved.

"I mean, you might wanna consider if you wanna spend the rest of your life with a volatile, erratic, angry, out-of-control individual. And at some point this is all gonna start affecting you too you know. You have a choice, you don't have to deal with this."

"Trip, the only choice I have is to be by your side, no matter what happens!" she said, her voice firm. "And we will not give up… _hope_ ,prematurely. There may still be a way to fix this problem. What we need to be concentrating on now, however, is how to handle your return to Jupiter Station having ignored your Commanding Officer's orders."

Trip put his hands in his head, leaning his elbows against the railing. "Damn! You're right! I forgot all about Commodore Archer. He'll probably be waiting there at space dock with a security team and handcuffs for me."

"Then you should not return to space dock. I will take Hoshi to see Dr. Phlox."

"No you won't," he said with a frown. "Look, I've got to deal with him sometime, might as well be right up front."

"But if you anticipate that you will be placed under arrest again and incarcerated, why would you go back there?"

"Because, I owe Jon the truth. I need to look him in the face and take responsibility for what I've done. I'm not gonna run and hide."

"Then how will you return to Capella Prime to look for Malcolm? You can't do that if you're locked up."

Trip looked at T'Pol, knowing what she was saying was true. "I'll think of something," was all he said. Then, side by side, they continued staring out at the stars.

=/\=

 **Capella Prime.** **The Other Side of the Planet.**

They had been in the cabin now for three days and V'Shele had been in and out of consciousness. She had some internal injuries that Malcolm had been able to assess by way of the scanner that he'd retrieved from her back pack. Unfortunately, he had no way of treating them.

For a while she was feverish and delirious, talking out of her head. During the few periods when she was awake for more than a few minutes at a time, she was hostile and angry and had tried to fight him, but she was too weak to do much more than spit abuse at him.

Nevertheless, he'd kept a close watch on her, remembering his premonition. For whatever stupid, sentimental reason he was keeping her alive, but he wasn't going to give her the chance to kill him if he could help it.

During the long hours of his vigil the Brit had searched the cabin for anything she could use as a weapon to harm herself or him. He'd even retrieved the broken blade from under the bunk on the other side of the room and hidden it where she couldn't possibly find it. He was taking every precaution that he could. Now all he had to do was work out how to get them out of there, and off the planet.

Close to the end of the third day she regained consciousness. He was sitting on a stool by the fire when she stirred, weaving a few pieces of thin cord to make a snare, and watched warily as she slowly sat up, stared around at her shabby surroundings, and without a word stood up and walked across to join him.

He'd made tea. Though he was eking out their supplies and mostly made due during the day with drinking melted snow, he felt that the evenings merited something a bit more fortifying. Tonight, observing that his patient seemed to be getting closer to wakefulness, he'd risked making a second, laying the second mug in the ashes to keep warm. If she didn't wake, or didn't want it, he'd drink it himself; in their circumstances, wasting even a pretty awful cup of tea was unthinkable.

Still not saying anything, she pulled out a second stool and sat down, picking up the second mug and tasting the contents. It was probably awful by now, but she swallowed a mouthful of it anyway.

Malcolm stared at the woman sitting across from him in front of the fire, sipping the beverage he'd given her, the blanket wrapped around her. She finally looked up, seeming to become aware of his gaze.

"What?" she said, between sips.

"Your hair," he said stupidly; it was the first thing he could think of. "I don't remember it being that color, or that long."

She put her cup down on the floor next to her and rubbed her hands together before pushing them through her hair. "I grew it out and dyed it, so what!"

Malcolm smiled faintly. "Well…I like it."

She shot him a look. "Don't!" she snapped. "Just fucking don't!"

"We can't be civil?"

"No, we can't be anything! We're enemies, remember! I'm your goddamned prisoner! I'll kill you if I get the chance, and don't you forget it!"

Malcolm lowered his eyes for a second. "Understood," he said levelly. "But if and until that opportunity comes, I suggest we try to be civil. We don't know how long we're going to be stuck here. We don't even know if we're going to ever get out of here; we may die here! So in the meantime, Comrade…"

"Don't call me that!"

"V'Shele?"

"Don't call me that either!"

He was tired, and heartsick over Hoshi, and his patience was wearing thin. "Crewman Wells, then! Allison, or whatever the hell you call yourself now!"

She was quiet for a moment. "You used to call me…Allie. I liked that," she whispered.

"Allie it is then," Malcolm replied.

Then there was a moment of silence as they both stared at the fire.

"You once told me that you had two sisters… and a little brother." He broke the silence at last.

"Yeah, so what!" She huddled the blanket closer over her shoulders, though the fire was giving out a considerable amount of heat; they weren't short of available firewood, and over the last couple of days he'd brought in a good supply.

"You told me that your father was a scientist, that he was pressed into service for the government to build weapons, that he was eventually executed as a traitor. That you and your mother had to go into hiding, that you went underground, living as fugitives to survive, that she eventually committed suicide, leaving you to care for the family. But you never told me what happened to your siblings. You never told me how you became a _Rihansu_ operative."

"I told you, I sold my soul to the devil," V'Shele said. "That's it and that's all."

"No, I mean what really happened? Have you even spoken about it? Have you ever told anyone?"

"No Malcolm," she spat. "That's because no one gives a shit, you know!"

"I do," he said quietly.

V'Shele rolled her eyes. "Why do you do that?" she snapped. "Why the hell do you have to do that? Act like you care and all? We're not back on _Enterprise_ , Malcolm, we're not playing the spy game! You've got me, you've won, again! But one thing you _haven't_ got is your lady-friend, and for all we know she could be dead back there by now – along with the rest of your 'rescuers'! So just cut the crap! You don't have to pretend to like me, or…or to give a goddamn about me, alright? I know you hate me, just like everybody else, so just leave me the hell alone!"

"I don't hate you, Allie," Malcolm said softly. Every word she spoke about Hoshi and the others was the truth, and it knifed him with unbearable pain, but he recognized all too well the desperate bravado he now heard in her voice. "I know it's hard for you to believe, but … I really do care about what happens to you. God alone knows why, because _I_ don't… but I do."

V'Shelle stared at him, then she looked away. She was silent for so long that he thought she wasn't going to answer at all.

When she finally spoke, her voice was hardly more than a breath of sound. "I…I sold myself into the service of the government as a military operative, in exchange for my family's education and care. They were given a place to live, food, nice clothes, and my brothers and sister were sent to school, while I was trained as a spy to do the dirtiest, deadliest grunt work you could ever imagine. I did it too, for five years, as agreed".

"At the end of my time, instead of being released, I was thrown into prison for three years. But I escaped and went to find my family."

"It took me a while to find out what had happened to them. That they had been executed. I had killed them. As long as I'd kept my part of the deal they'd been fine, but my refusal to carry on as an operative had killed them.

"I found my captors, those I had made the deal with, and I killed them. Revenge. I made it last, too." She smiled terribly. "I was captured, but it was worth it."

"I was facing execution for my crimes, but before they could carry out my sentence, I escaped again, and went on the run, hunting down everyone who'd had anything to do with my family's deaths. Over time I became somewhat of a legend; my skills were a valuable commodity, and instead of been seen as a threat, I came to be seen as a potential asset. There was a regime change. The new people offered me a deal – and you know the rest."

"I'm sorry about your family," Malcolm said. "But you know that what happened to them was not your fault."

She was staring into the fire. He saw her throat muscles move as she swallowed. "I – I was all they had. I was supposed to take care of them. They trusted me, and I betrayed that trust. I killed them."

"No, you didn't. You tried to do what you thought was best for them at the time. You sacrificed yourself for them."

"I should have known I couldn't trust those bastards. They used me…in more ways than one, for years. They held my family's lives and wellbeing over my head, and I did terrible, horrific things to save them. And all that time, the deal was fake. As soon as I wanted out, they were dead."

"You were hardly more than a child yourself," Malcolm replied gently. "You couldn't have known. You did the best with the cards you were dealt."

"I failed them." V'Shele's voice was raw with anguish. "What I did got them killed. And it…hurt, it hurt so much. The pain was too much for me to bear…the anger…the guilt."

"So that's when you did it," Malcom said. "That's when you decided to check out." She looked up at him with her moist eyes. "That's when you stopped letting yourself feel anything."

"I just disconnected," she answered, nodding. "I died, just hollowed out on the inside. I've never looked back."

"But there were times, back on the ship," he went on steadily, looking into her eyes, "that I saw light in your eyes. I saw…a person, with feelings, not just a cold-bloodied killer, not a monster."

"Yeah, well, _you_ did that," she muttered, turning away from him.

"Why me?" he asked. "There were others, what was it about me?"

"You… seemed… a lot like me. You were a spy, a killer, had disconnected too – or so I thought. Till I … till we got close."

He frowned down at the plaited cord, dangling forgotten between his fingers. "I did disconnect, a long time ago. Not for the same reasons, nothing nearly as drastic. But I did cut myself off from feeling, from becoming too close to anyone."

"When I was on assignment, I did some pretty terrible things myself. I would never have been able to live with myself if hadn't learned early on how to shut it all down, to just … stop thinking about what I was doing, or what I was becoming."

"What happened?" she asked curiously. "What brought you back?"

He looked at her and smiled slightly. " _Enterprise_ happened. _Enterprise_ and Trip Tucker, to be precise."

"Oh? I never figured you for the type," she said with a smirk.

Malcolm laughed a little. "No it wasn't like that," he replied. "But I think you know that. Trip was just a ridiculous, stubborn, crazy bastard, that I don't know, wouldn't take no for an answer. He was determined to be friends with everyone on the bloody ship! And no matter how much I tried to keep it on a professional level, he was determined that we were going to be best mates. But it was the Shuttlepod One incident that more or less forged a bond between us."

"'Shuttlepod One incident'?"

"Yes, well, we almost died on that blasted thing – a simple, short away mission that went horribly wrong. Almost froze to death. And there was something about almost dying together that sort of sealed the deal, somehow. Anyway, Trip's been my closest friend ever since. Actually, he's the first real friend I've ever had. Since that time we've been through quite a bit together. I'd trust him with my life."

Suddenly V'Shele grimaced, and bent over as if in pain.

"OK, that's enough getting to know you for one day," Malcolm said, rising and coming over to where she sat. "Let's get you back to bed." He grabbed one of her hands and put one arm around her waist to help her up.

"It's so much warmer by the fire," she said dismally. "I was really enjoying not freezing my ass off for a change."

He helped her get back into the bed then walked across the room to the other bunk. He took the thick quilt off of it, brought it over and put it on top of her.

"You'll freeze without this," she said, though her fingers closed on it. "I didn't mean for you to give me yours. Here, take it back – go on you fool, you'll freeze without it."

"Who said anything about freezing?" Malcolm replied. He then kicked off his boots and threw back the bed covers. Without more ado, he got in beside her and put his arms around her, snuggling up close.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped, lying rigid.

"Keeping you warm," he answered, "and making sure I don't freeze at the same time. Now lie down, shut up and go to sleep!"

The flicker of firelight showed him her reluctant smile, and he felt her relax slowly against him.

=/\=

V'Shele lay awake for a while, listening to the soft breathing of the man beside her lengthening into sleep.

He was so special, so unique. He was the one who had made her feel again. And he was in love with someone else.

She knew full well that this was not meant to be, that there was no way this would last. No, she couldn't have him, she knew that. But for the moment, right here and right now, she was in his arms. It was a moment she would cherish forever, however long that might be.

=/\=

United Earth, Space Dock. Five days later.

 _Xfininty_ , Archer's Ready Room.

Jon was furious and, as Trip had guessed, shortly after the _Excalibur_ had docked and Hoshi was taken to sick bay on _Xfinity,_ the commodore had him arrested and thrown into the brig again. While he was happy that Hoshi was alive and well, he was incensed with Trip for going on an unauthorized mission and angry with T'Pol for joining him. Jon was even more beside himself to learn that Malcolm had not even returned with them, but had sacrificed himself to a killer and no one knew if he was dead or alive.

"Trip I gave you an order," the commodore said as he paced the floor back and forwards in his ready room.

"I understand that sir," Trip said. "But I was on leave, and so was Malcolm. We didn't use any of Starfleet's property, we did it on our own time and used our own resources."

"And you really think that makes it alright?"

Trip looked mulish. "Under the circumstances, I don't see how we violated any orders!"

"So if you went off and committed a murder while you were on leave, you think that you wouldn't be court martialed for conduct unbecoming an officer, for violating Starfleet rules and regulations, for capital murder?"

Trip just scowled and looked at the floor at that.

"Look, I'm glad Hoshi is back," Jon said, his face softening slightly. "I really am. And if you guys hadn't gone after her, chances are, she'd be dead by now."

"'Chances are she'd be dead'! _Sir!_ SI had lost the trail! They couldn't decipher those clues V'Shele left behind, and you know why? Because she left them specifically for Malcolm! She knew that he and only he would know what they meant! Because they'd had a personal relationship and she'd shown him that crap before! It was a gamble goin' after Hoshi, but he did. He did it because he loved her! SI never had a clue, they didn't stand a chance! Hoshi _would_ be dead if we'd just sat around on our butts and waited for them to bring her back!"

"Yeah, that's right, Trip. You're probably right. But now, Malcolm is _probably_ dead!"

Trip sighed and put his hand to his forehead. "I know, I know! But…Commodore, he made his choice. I would have done the exact same thing if T'Pol had been in that situation, and don't you stand there and tell me that you wouldn't have done it if Erica had been in Hoshi's place either."

Jon sighed, shaking his head at his friend. "Trip…I can't just let this go."

Trip straightened his back and clasped his hands behind him. "I understand completely, sir. Do what you have to do," he said, "and I'll do what I have to."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm going back out there. To look for Malcolm. I have to, and neither you nor anyone else is going to stop me."

"What are you suggesting, Captain Tucker?" the older man snapped, getting closer to his subordinate. The brief moment of empathy was over.

"Well sir," Trip began, "I know I'm not goin' to be able to continue serving in Starfleet for an extended period of time with my condition. It's just a matter of time. Even if I come out on top at this hearing that's comin' up in the next couple of months, I know my days with Starfleet are over. That bein' said, I feel that I have to do whatever seems right to me; I have nothing to lose, and I'll be keepin' faith with a friend. That's why I chose to go after Hoshi, and that's why I have to go back out there and try to find Malcolm."

Jon stepped closer to his one-time best friend. "Trip, are you trying to tell me that you're going to try to escape?"

Trip did not respond, he just stood there looking at his CO. "It's over, it's time to move on. Time for _me_ to move on."

"What do you mean?" The commodore was getting more frustrated and angry by the minute.

"Well, this little unauthorized mission taught me a whole lot of things. For one, things aren't always as they seem. Two, just because things aren't done by the book, doesn't mean that's necessarily a bad thing. Three, sometimes you need people who use unorthodox methods in order to get things done."

Jon looked at Trip warily. "Trip, you're not a spy," he finally said.

"Maybe not, but I know a couple of 'em, and I have a whole new perspective on what they do and a whole new respect for 'em too. I may not be one of 'em, but maybe I can lend 'em a hand."

"You're going back to the brig, and there you'll sit until your hearing comes up," Jon told him firmly.

"For _two months_?" Trip was incredulous.

"For two months," Jon repeated. "You made your choice, Captain, did what you thought was right to do…now I have to do the same."

Trip just stood there stoically as his CO called for a security officer to accompany him in escorting the prisoner back to the brig. When the guard arrived, however, Trip noticed there was … something about him; something that pricked at his instinct for danger, but what risk could there possibly be here? Nevertheless, as the two of them began to walk down the corridor towards the brig, they were suddenly confronted by two other individuals who stepped out of a side-room. One of these was instantly familiar, and the recognition wasn't pleasant.

"Captain – or I believe it's _Commodore_ now, we meet again," the Rigelian pirate said, holding a weapon in Jon's face. The guard then pushed both Starfleet officers against the wall.

"What is this? Who are you?" Jon demanded. From the perplexity and anger in his face, he obviously hadn't recognized the villain.

"Old friends, mate," the other pirate replied gruffly. "And this is a raid! We've come to take your valuables. You see, we need to get out of this area of space, having just managed to escape from your lovely prison facility on Mars."

"Commodore, we ran into these thugs a couple of years ago, trying to take over one of our ships!" Trip interjected. "We answered their distress call and were able to stop these goddamned thieves, remember?"

"I'm glad you have such a good memory," the first man replied. "Now for the matter at hand. Commodore, we need your valuables and a shuttlepod. Then we'll be taking you hostage – now move it!" He pulled Jon away from the wall and gave him a shove to get him moving.

"Over my dead body!" Trip shouted. He then attacked the guard to the right of him, causing the man to fall backwards and drop his weapon.

The other guy was distracted by the scuffle for just a split second, and Jon used that to grab his arm, jerking the phase pistol up and away from him. They began to struggle, causing a phase blast to accidentally hit the second pirate who had gotten a shot off in his direction, but had missed his target. He fell to the floor.

Trip then pulled out a small device from his pocket, grabbed Jon, flung him to the floor away from the others and dived on top of him. Moments later an explosive device went off in the corridor, taking out the men who had attacked them, but they weren't far enough away from it themselves, and were not destined to escape unscathed.

Later.

Sick Bay, _Xfinity_.

"How is he?" Jon asked Phlox, who had just finished attending Trip. By now the commodore himself had a large bandage on his forehead and a sling on his arm.

"He suffered second degree burns on his back and a third degree burn on his neck. He also has a concussion. But he will recover."

"The other two?"

"As you can see for yourself commodore, this individual took the brunt of the blast, and was killed outright," the doctor said. "He is burned beyond recognition. The other one is almost as badly burned. I'm treating him, but his prognosis is not promising. The third one will survive, though he may be blinded for life."

However well-earned the pirates' fate might be, it was still sickening. Pushing the thought away from him, Jon leaned over on the edge of bio-bed where Trip lay sleeping. "Wake him up," he ordered. "I need to talk to him."

Phlox frowned. "Commodore, if you're planning on sending him back to the brig…"

"Just wake him, doctor!" Jon said firmly.

Phlox sighed and pressed a hypo to Trip's neck. A few moments later, the engineer was stirring. He opened his eyes and immediately put his hand to his forehead, where a crease of pain had appeared between his brows. When he went to sit up, Jon helped him.

"Why did you do it, you damn fool!" Jon started. "You could have been killed!"

Trip was obviously dizzy, and leaned his head over in his hand for a moment. "Guy said he was going to take you hostage," he mumbled. "Couldn't let that happen."

"You're out of control, you know that! You should have used your head – that little explosive packed quite a punch! You should thank your lucky stars you weren't blown to bits like your friend over there!" He gestured furiously at the dead pirate.

Trip looked up and across the room. He saw the burnt corpse lying on the bio-bed. "Yeah, he's in pretty bad shape huh? That's what comes of tryin' to take hostages – sometimes things don't work out they way you think they will.

"Look, Commodore…"

"Thank you," Jon interrupted him, and paused, searching for the right words. "Thank you for protecting me… for possibly saving my life."

Trip smiled a small, rueful smile. "There was a time when you would'a done the same for me," he replied. "But lately, I'm not so sure about that."

Jon smiled wryly back at him. "T'Pol was here earlier," he said. "But I sent her away."

The engineer frowned. "Why?" he asked curiously.

"Because I have something I need to discuss with you, privately." He glanced around, but Phox was pottering around in his laboratory and pretending not to be interested in their conversation; he knew the Denobulan would keep anything he heard under wraps.

"What happened to you wasn't your fault," he began. "You were injured because you went to Krios Prime to get the warp seven technology. You did that in service to Starfleet, to United Earth. You've had a great service record Trip; a few mishaps earlier on, but you matured into a fine officer, and a great captain."

"Jon, I…"

"No, let me finish," the commodore said, holding up his hand. "We've been friends too long Trip…been through too much together. I'd just hate to see your career end with these blemishes on it. While I can't ignore what you did a couple of weeks ago on the battlefield, when you disobeyed my orders, and I can't ignore the fact that you went against my orders yet again by going after Hoshi…I still can't let things end for you like this."

"So what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm giving you a choice," Jon replied. "Your ship is still in Earth's atmosphere, waiting to hear word about your condition." He hesitated. "You can hit me, and beam over to it right now if you want. You'll become a wanted fugitive, but perhaps later, when things settle down, you'll be able to come back and we'll see what happens. See if you can clear your name. You could still end up being court martialed and going to prison though."

Trip just looked down for a moment.

"Or…you can just disappear," Jon said and walked over to the burned corpse across the room. "Phlox has already agreed to prepare a death certificate for you."

Trip looked at his CO, then slid off the bio-bed. He stood with his hands on his hips, thinking for a few moments. "That means I can't come back, _ever,_ " he summed up. "At least not as Trip Tucker."

Jon hesitated, looking at the dead man, then back at Trip. "It's your choice."

Trip looked at Jon and then across the room at Phlox, who said nothing. Then he smiled a big smile. "Doc," he said, walking over to the Denobulan and reaching out his hand, "it's been a pleasure. I know I was always a pain in the ass, and for that I'm sorry. I'm gonna miss you."

Phlox took Trip's hand and covered it with his other hand. "I will miss you too, Mr. Tucker. Please try to take care of yourself. And uh, I took the liberty of giving T'Pol your medication. It will last you for quite some time. I have also sent the formula for its composition to Dr. Yuris on Vulcan. Perhaps he can provide some assistance to you in the future."

"Thanks doc," Trip returned with a sad smile; it was obviously just dawning on him that everyone else had known already what he would do when the choice was given to him. Then he turned to Jon. "I'm sorry for everything," he said. "I never thought we'd end up like this, not in a million years. But thanks for giving me the opportunity; thanks for allowing me to be the chief engineer of _Enterprise_."

"I hope you find Malcolm," Jon said. "I hope he's still alive. And tell him … tell him Starfleet still needs its top Tactical Officer."

"I'm sorry about Johnny," Trip added with a frown. "I know the pain of losing a child. But I hope one day you find him, or at least find out what happened to him."

"I'm just trying not to think about that anymore," the older man said, looking down.

Then there was silence for a few moments.

"Well, goodbye then, Commodore Archer," Trip said. "I hope that you find some kind of peace and contentment…some happiness." Then he reached his hand out to his old friend. But Jon grabbed him and pulled him into an embrace.

"Take care of yourself, Trip," he said. "You'll always be the little brother I never had…you'll always be family." And as soon as they broke the embrace, Jon flipped out his communicator.

"Energize," he said. And Trip disappeared in a haze of shimmering lights.


	16. Chapter 16

_*_ _ **Author's Note: Thanks to all of you wonderful readers for sticking with the story up until this point. This is the last chapter with the exception of an Epilogue that will be posted in the coming days.**_

 _ **I want to give a shout out to Braxin who gave me the idea for the villain V'Shelle way back before I began posting Part II of the series. She started out as a minor character, but he suggested that I give her a bigger role and make her a badass spy! That turned out to be a fantastic idea to say the least!**_

 _ **I especially want to give a shout out to LoyaulteMeLie who offered to help me with Brit speak for this story and from there became my Beta Reader (although I still managed to slip in a couple of errors here and there in some of my re-writes). She also made great suggestions along the way and actually co-authored this chapter. Thanks for everything LML! You have been a jewel! Hope you all enjoy. Bri**_

* * *

Chapter 16

Trip looked around, not knowing where he was. One minute he was in sickbay saying goodbye to Jon and Phlox, the next he was standing on the docks – presumably down in San Francisco. He'd thought he was being transported up to his ship, but something had evidently gone wrong.

Suddenly, two figures emerged from the shadows.

"Don't look so shocked," Harris said.

"You!" Trip snapped – this was the last man he'd been expecting to see. "Admiral?" he added with a frown. "What is this? What the hell am I doing here?"

"Relax, Tucker," the admiral said. "We transported you out of there just as Archer was calling up to your ship. He has no idea where you are at the moment."

"I'll ask you again, what the hell is this, and I why am I here?" Trip demanded, getting angry.

"We wanted to have a conversation with you," Harris said. "You see, we've been watching you for some time."

"Obviously," the frustrated engineer replied.

"You've been very busy over the last couple of months, Captain," the Admiral stated. "And I must say, though I always knew you operated close to the edge, I just never knew _how_ close."

"Seems you've finally fallen over that edge," Harris added.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Trip sneered.

"It means we think you may have the chops for a different line of work," Harris grinned. "Actually, I suspected it all along. I wanted to approach you long before now."

"Wait a minute, just hold on a second." Trip held up his hands. He looked at both of the men standing in front of him warily. "I know you're not suggesting what I _think_ you're suggesting!"

"That was an impressive piece of work you just did," Wallace replied. "Commandeering that ship of yours, going after Sato, and successfully bringing her back."

"Yeah, well, I lost Malcolm in the process, so I wouldn't be too impressed just yet."

"If I know Reed, he's still alive," the spymaster said with a wry grin. "Bastard's hard to kill. That's why you're going back out there, isn't it? To find him?"

"You seem to know every damn thing," Trip growled. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Look, Tucker," the Admiral said, moving closer to the angry engineer. "You just died! That puts you in a perfect position for this assignment!"

"Assignment!" Trip's voice rose. He put his hands on his hips and laughed a little. "You're right. I just died, so since I'm dead, I don't have to do shit for anybody! I'm a free man! I can come and go as I please! So you can take your 'assignment', whatever the hell it is, and…"

"Tucker! Listen to me!" Wallace shouted. There was silence for a moment. "You're a good man, I know that. You've had a fine record, most of it anyway. Lately, however, you've screwed up. We're offering you a way to fix it."

"Fix it?" Trip asked, curious in spite of himself. "Whadda you mean, fix it?"

Harris and Wallace looked at one another. Then Harris spoke. "Last year when we sent Reed in after the Romulan operative known as V'Shele, he brought her in, exposed their cell group on Krios Prime. But that was just part of the job."

"As you know…she escaped," Wallace started. Seeing the guy's complacent grin, Trip started to get the picture: V'Shele had been _allowed_ to escape. "We tried to track her, but we lost her."

"That is, until a couple of weeks ago, when you and Reed went after Sato and found out that our girl was behind the kidnapping," Harris added.

"How the hell do you know that?" Trip asked. Then he thought, _Gannet_. She still worked for Harris. "So what the hell does any of this have to do with me?"

"We need you to go back out there," the admiral said bluntly. "Just as you planned. If Reed is alive, fine, engage him. If not, we still need you to pursue V'Shele. Get a location on her. We want the location of those other cell groups, the names of their other operatives in the field. Like we said earlier, we only got part of the picture before. We need the rest."

"I'm no spy!" Trip protested. "I don't know anything about black ops and how you guys play your little games!"

"You held your own out there," Harris replied. "For a man with no training. But you need to find Reed, if he's alive. We're also sending Brooks back to you."

"Look," Wallace took up the conversation. "Do this and I'll make sure your service record is wiped clean. You'll be restored to your status as Captain, and you can resume your command."

"We can even see to it that your little issue with your head is taken care of," Harris said.

Trip shot him a look. "There's no cure for that!"

"Isn't there?" Harris said smugly, while Trip just stared at him. "You'd be surprised."

"What about Commodore Archer? He and I…"

"Leave Archer to me," Wallace answered. "Do this and you won't have to worry about Archer. He's not exactly running anything, anyway."

Trip looked at the two men standing before him and thought for a moment. Had he just been recruited by Section 31?

=/\=

 _Excalibur._

Trip didn't waste any time. He immediately assembled what was left of his team on _Excalibur._ Several of them elected to receive the rest of their pay and move on. Leah, who had been viciously stung by the _kai-ya_ s, also elected to stay behind in order to be reunited with her family. Smith and Wesson, who turned out to be Jackson and Wesley Smith, decided to remain aboard. Trip had endeared himself to them, having shown compassion and leadership by going back for the injured Wesley and refusing to leave him behind.

V'Lyn elected to remain on the ship as well. She had been away from Vulcan for many years and did not have family there anymore, so she had nowhere else to go. The two young women with her, a nurse and a cook, also decided to stay. Kov was dedicated to Trip and taking care of his ship, so he remained on board without hesitation. T'Pol had stayed behind to tie up some business with Starfleet and would rendezvous with them in a couple of days to rejoin the team.

Soon they were underway, headed back to Capella Prime to find Malcolm. In a couple of days, Gannet contacted Trip and soon she had rejoined the team as well. Trip just prayed that it wasn't too late for Malcolm.

Insofar as he'd thought about it at all, Trip had thought he was going to have to fake his death to complete the mission. He hadn't even had that much time to think about that when he was confronted by Harris and Wallace about becoming a Section 31 operative. He didn't feel great about that prospect either, but everything had happened so fast he didn't see that had options at the time. He knew that Malcolm was miserable being under the section's thumb and he absolutely hated Harris. But what choice did he have? He decided not to think about it at the moment. The task at hand was to find Malcolm. He'd have to deal with his ties to section 31 later.

=/\=

 **Capella Prime.**

T'Pol was able to pinpoint the place where V'Shele's shuttlepod had gone down. Once they were able to determine where to start looking, Trip, Gannet and T'Pol prepared for the snowy conditions on the other side of the planet. Thankfully, no radiation was detected there, just snow and ice.

When they found the burned out wreckage, they became hopeful, as it seemed to contain the remains of only two people, neither of whom were the ones they were after.

"I knew it," Trip said. "That son-of-a-bitch made it!"

"Hopefully he was able to find shelter," T'Pol replied. "These conditions are treacherous."

"Maybe you should go back to the ship, babe." He glanced at her a little anxiously. "We may be out here for a while and it's damned cold."

T'Pol shook her head. "I will be fine," she replied. "We have no way of knowing what we will find here, or how many people actually survived that crash. You need my help."

"Okay then," Gannet said, pulling her gear onto her back. "We better get going. It's starting to snow again. If there are any clues left, they'll be covered over if we don't hurry."

"I doubt whether there are any clues to follow at this point," the Vulcan pointed out. "It has been more than a week since we left here."

"You're probably right," Trip agreed. "But we found the 'pod, and that gives me a lot of hope. I know Mal is still alive. I say we go get him."

With that, they started out.

 **Capella Prime**

 **Inside the Cabin.**

Malcolm looked down at the woman in the bed. He felt her forehead. She was burning up with fever, yet her body shook with cold. He pulled the blankets up around her closer and tucked them under her neck, and went to get more wood to heap on the fire, which was already blazing. The room was practically at blood-heat, but nothing seemed to make V'Shele feel warm.

She had been practically delirious when he had brought her here, and quite near death. But over the last few days she'd seemed to be getting better, and his hopes had risen that she wasn't as badly injured as he'd thought. Then, early yesterday morning, she'd suddenly taken a turn for the worse. He had ventured out several times in different directions, looking for help or for a way out of their predicament; unfortunately, he hadn't been able to find anything.

Over the last week they had talked, a lot. At first she had been hostile and often spiteful, but after a while she had softened and had poured out her heart to him. He had coaxed her into telling him about her past. They had shared several tender moments. He had even crawled into bed every night with her to keep her warm, but when she had finally told him she loved him he was unable to reciprocate the feeling. Honesty prevented him from pretending; he was done with lying to her, even when that was what she wanted him to do. After that, predictably, she became hostile again, so sharp-tongued that he'd been grateful at first when she'd gone quiet – right up to the point where he realized that she wasn't sullenly silent, but too sick to formulate any more insults.

Malcolm rubbed his hands together, then blew on them. It was cold as hell outside, and even though fetching more wood hadn't taken him long he was chilled to the bone. It would take him a few minutes to thaw out again.

He checked on V'Shele; no improvement – not that he was really expecting any. With a sigh, he got up from the edge of the bed where his patient lay and walked over to the window. He pulled back the tattered shade and looked out. The early dusk was closing in, and another long lonely night beckoned. Listlessly he watched the snow pummel the already white covered hillside; if it went on for another week like this, there was a danger that they would be snowed in. If that happened, however carefully he hoarded their rations, the food would run out long before they could dig themselves out. He sighed again, deeply.

Suddenly, V'Shele started coughing violently.

The Englishman ran over to the bed and sat next to his patient. He raised up the top half of her body and held a cloth under her mouth as she spat up blood. "Steady, steady," he said.

She coughed a bit more. He carefully wiped away the blood and the spittle. "Take it easy, love," he said, and bit his lip at the way the endearment had slipped so easily off his tongue. He then got up, poured some water and sat back down next to her. "Here, drink a little."

She tried to swat it away but she was too weak.

"Come on, you need to drink. Just a swallow or two."

"N–no," she whispered.

"Why not?" he asked. "You need it."

"W–why are…why are you… _doing_ this?" she stammered. Though she was still a bit wild-eyed, she seemed to be fairly rational again.

"Because you need help, and I'm the only one here."

"Let me…die."

"You know I can't do that."

"You…bas…tard," she stammered.

"That's me, love," he grinned, "now drink."

With that, glaring, she sipped a little of the water – a minor victory, if not a spectacular one.

"That's great. Soup's for dinner, so get ready. Now that I know you can swallow, I'll be expecting you to get some of it down."

"Go…go…t–to…hell…" she whispered, then flung herself back flat onto the bed. At least she'd rediscovered enough fire to resist him; that must surely be an encouraging sign.

"That's the spirit," he said, though with a rather twisted smile. Then he turned and went over to the fireplace, threw another log onto the fire and stirred it a bit more. At least he himself was feeling a bit warmer again now.

As though hoping to see some kind of solution out there in the vast hostile world in which they were trapped if he stared at it long enough, he walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain again, staring out at the blanket of white.

"How the hell am I going get us out of here?" he whispered to himself. Then suddenly, he sensed someone approaching, and he heard footsteps. But she'd been so ill just seconds ago! Perhaps she'd found the will to finally try and get out of bed? He quickly turned to meet her eyes, and to his horror she was halfway across the room towards him, and the faint lucidity in her gaze had vanished into madness. Worse – presumably she'd searched the place during one of his forays to fetch firewood – she'd found that damned blade he'd so carefully hidden; the firelight glinted off the edge of metal held in one fist.

" _V'Shele!"_ he cried out in despair.

There wasn't a flicker of response. Instead, she screamed and lunged for him – but he was ready for her.

He remembered what had happened in the nightmare. He had seen it too many times and he had anticipated this moment. They struggled with the broken blade, and though he thought she was too weak to put up the fight she would have done if she'd been her old self, the thin body that twisted against his still seemed to contain astonishing reserves of strength. Had she been faking how ill she really was, waiting for an opportunity to catch him off guard?

" _Stop!"_ he shouted at her. "Don't do this! You don't have to do this, you fool! I can get us out of here, I can save us!"

The nightmare played out with an appalling inevitability. He felt the burn in his side as the knife found his flesh. Then, with a massive effort, he overpowered her, tore the blade from her hands and pushed her away so hard she almost fell headlong onto the dusty wooden flooring.

"I'm our only hope of getting out of here alive, Allie," he panted, watching her scramble back to her feet and face him again. "If you kill me, you seal both our deaths!"

"So be it, then!" she shouted. "You think I want to leave here? To go back with you so you can hand me over to Starfleet again? So you can lock me away again? _Never!_ "

"Allie…calm down." He used his most soothing voice, trying to appeal to any reason she might have left. "We don't have to think about any of that now. All that matters is that we stay alive."

"I'm not going back! Don't you see…I have you, here, all to myself! We're here together, the way it's supposed to be, just the two of us. And if we die together, that's okay too. At least we'll be together!"

"No, _V'Shele,"_ he replied cuttingly. "That is _not_ OK! We were not meant to be together and we are not going to die here together! I don't love you, I never did love you, and I'd rather die in explosive decompression than with you!"

She then put her hands in her hair and pulled at it, letting out a scream. "Liar! Bastard! _Liar!_ "

=/\=

"Did you hear that?" T'Pol said stopping in her tracks, some one hundred meters away. "That sounded like a human scream." With that, she whipped out her scanning equipment. It had been faulty and unpredictable all day as they had trekked in the snow for several hours.

"There," she said pointing, "in that direction, through that cluster of trees." Then they started to run as best they could through the mounded snow.

=/\=

V'Shele had torn out of the cabin and started to run. Whether deliberately or not, she headed for a nearby ravine.

After making sure she wasn't waiting outside the door to attack him as soon as he came out, Malcolm had raced after her. She was ill, she was weak, she shouldn't be out here at all; he had to get her back inside somehow.

When he caught up with her, she was standing there, in front of the ravine, staring out across the depths filled only with blowing snow.

"Allie, don't!" Malcolm shouted, plunging to a halt so he wouldn't scare her over the edge. "You don't have to do this!"

"Yes I do! I won't live without you! And I won't go back to prison! So you can let me jump and it can all be over!"

He swallowed, and fought to find a tone that would reach her. "You don't want to die. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. You've fought like hell to survive at every turn, don't give up now!"

"No! I'll jump! I will!" The sound of her shout echoed off the ravine walls below, infinitely cold and dark.

" _Allie!"_

"Tell me you love me!" It was a child's cry, and it tore at his soul. "That's the only way…you tell me you love me and I won't jump. I'll come back with you…I'll go anywhere with you!"

"Allie, you know I…." He moved forward stealthily. "I care for you, I do… But I don't…"

"Then I'll kill you and take you with me! If I can't have, you no one can!" Without warning she sprang at him and he heard the hiss of a hypospray against his neck. He grabbed her hand and knocked the hypo out of it, so that it fell into the heaped snow and was lost.

"What the hell have you done?" he shouted.

"That was _kai-ya_ venom!" she screamed at him. "And in a few seconds it will begin to paralyze your lungs so you won't be able to breathe!" Then she laughed, cruelly. "You're right! I don't want to die. But you will, now, whether you want to or not!

"Did you think all that bullshit I told you about myself was true? I made it up, a sob story to make you feel sorry for me! So you would let your guard down!"

Malcolm started to become dizzy, then he fell to his knees. "You're…lying," he gasped. "I saw it in y–your eyes; it _was_ true, every word of it." He could feel his breathing slowing, and every indrawn breath was a greater effort. The sensation took him back, horribly, to Shuttlepod One: the biting cold, the struggle for oxygen.

"All you had to do was love me," she wailed, stroking his hair as she knelt down beside him. "All you had to do was love me! But you were too pathetic to do that! We could have been great together. We could have ruled!"

Abruptly, the caress turned into a blow that almost drove him to all fours. "But you wouldn't do that! Now I'm getting the hell out of here! Then my comrades and I are going to your precious Earth to wreak havoc on your kind! We will conquer your people and make them our slaves! And I will make your beautiful Ms. Sato my _personal_ slave!" Then she rose, plainly intending to leave her victim for dead. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop her.

"B-before you go… _love,_ " Malcolm said, spending what little air he could find to take the wind out of the bitch's sails, "You should know…I hid your…data disks! Your little insurance package! I hid all the intel you've been harboring… all t-this time…about the war… about your c-cell groups…your…bloody operatives in the field! And you'll never find them, _never!_ I made damn sure of that!

"You have nothing now! So, go on… go back, and you'll just be killed! Because you're fuck-all use to anybody now!"

"What have you done to me?" she screamed. _"What have you done?"_

Suddenly, phase pistol fire whizzed out of the falling dark.

V'Shele was hit several times. The blast propelled her backwards and she fell onto the ground. But she immediately staggered to her feet and flew in a rage toward Malcolm, who had managed to scramble his feet as well.

Even though his chest felt as though an iron band was tightening around it and his breathing was hoarse and ragged, his legs and his arms were still working. As the enraged woman rushed at him he knew that if she was strong enough and mad enough to overcome stun blasts, he had to end this or die.

Long experience took over. He swayed smoothly to one side in the instant before impact and, summoning all of his remaining strength, caught her lightly with one arm, almost as though to stop her running past him. But his leg was still in place and she toppled over it, and as her falling weight swung him around the movement gave additional impetus to his free arm. It came whirling around, with all the power of his upper body behind the blade of his hand as it crashed into her neck.

It was the move of a Section executioner. The snap was audible even over the howl of the wind, and he lowered her body slowly to the snow, trembling with nausea and loathing of his own skills.

He hadn't wanted this. He'd wanted things to end differently, to somehow have been able to salvage a happy ending for everyone. But that would have required a miracle, and miracles were one of the few things Section 31 operatives weren't trained to achieve on demand.

Controlling himself with an effort, he turned to see Trip, T'Pol and Gannet floundering towards him through the snow, holding their weapons out. He was thankful they'd come to find him, but maybe now they wondered what exactly they'd come to rescue. They'd have had a grandstand view of what he'd done. They'd have seen what he was trained to be, seen what he had done without even thinking about it.

The pain in his side and the pressure on his chest swelled and merged. His heart was crashing against his ribs as he struggled to breathe, and grabbing his chest, he fell to his knees. He hadn't even the strength to look up as his comrades plunged to a halt beside him, crouching down to steady him and find out where he'd been hurt.

He followed the direction of their appalled stares and saw red streaks in the snow next to him, where he'd rolled as he fell.

He was done. He felt the last of his strength ebbing away, and the blackness swallowed him.

=/\=

 **Back on** _ **Excalibur.**_

When Malcolm woke up, the first face he saw was Trip's. He stirred. "Where…where am I?"

"You're on _Excalibur_ ," Trip said. "And yes, you're alive."

"You mean… this… isn't Shuttle… Shuttle…"

"Shuttlepod One?" Trip smiled. "Not this time, Mal."

Malcolm then tried to get up, and Trip helped him into a sitting position. "I can't remember. V'Shele – where is she?"

Trip looked down before answering. "She's dead. She didn't make it."

Malcolm looked away.

"Does that bother you?" Trip asked, puzzled. "She was a killer, Mal. She kidnapped Hoshi, and she would have killed you if she'd had the chance. I bet you were in that cabin because you were trying to save her life. She was a monster."

Malcolm nodded. "Yes. But she was human once." He sighed. "And no, it doesn't bother me that she's dead. I just can't believe it's finally over, that's all.

"But I know now why I had to save her life. I know why I couldn't kill her at first. I had to earn her trust one more time, to bring out the human being in her. So that she'd let me get close enough to find something very important. Where's…where's my pack?"

"With your things we brought from the cabin," Trip said.

"Have someone fetch it," Malcolm said. "Straightaway, please. I need to show you something."

 **Later.**

What Malcolm showed Trip, T'Pol and Gannet on the Sick Bay vid screen was incredible. It was the names of dozens and dozens of Vulcan and Rihansu operatives in the field. There were names and coordinates for cell groups of terrorist organizations all over the Alpha Quadrant; Starfleet sympathizers, formulas for chemical warfare, locations of star bases and dates for attack operations. It was pure gold, and Malcolm had it. Some of the intel V'Shele had been privy to; some she had stolen. This intel would turn the war on its head. But some of it was extremely dangerous, and perhaps even unprovable.

"So, what do you think?" he asked his comrades. "Pretty damning stuff, isn't it?"

"Well, if it's true, it could turn this war on its head," Trip said. "Why would she give it to you? After everything, she just drops this bombshell on you."

"In her mind, she was in love with me." Malcolm's tone was hard to decipher, his face full of shadows. "At least, whatever she believed love to be. I got her to talk to me…to confide in me. In the course of things, I regained her trust. She thought we were either going to survive that damned cabin and I was going to go away with her; that I really did love her after all, because I'd saved her life. When she found out that wasn't true, she retreated back into her hatred."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Now that we have such damaging information, I question if we can trust it," T'Pol finally said. "And into whose hands do we place it?"

"I can verify some of it," Gannet said. "I know a few of those SI operatives on that list. But damn! She's had their names all this time! That puts their lives at risk, and their families! Who the hell else knows about that fucking list?"

"She was holding the intel hostage," Malcom replied. "It was her ace in the hole. It made her very powerful, and indispensable. What's equally disturbing is that there's even intel about Harris and section 31, Starfleet and our very own Admiral Wallace." He spat, as though there was something foul in his mouth. "The corruption goes very high."

"And those bastards came to me and pulled me into this shit without a fucking thought too," Trip snapped. Seeing Malcolm's bewilderment, and realizing that he was unaware of what had happened, he quickly filled in the details.

The Brit scowled as he thought through the ramifications.

"There's even corruption in the Vulcan High Council," T'Pol added. "I recognize some of those names as well. Minister Talmok, for one…Koss' father," she said, looking at her Bond-mate.

"We can't just sit on this, guys," Trip said. "We have to do something. V'Shele was a very dangerous woman, playing a very dangerous game. She lied, stole and killed for this intel. That's how she kept the upper hand, that's how she stayed one step ahead of all of her partners – until she became so obsessed with Malcolm that she lost sight of her goals as far as the war was concerned. But now, we have all of that intel in our hands and we don't even know who to trust with it."

"We can trust Commodore Archer," Malcolm said.

They all agreed that that was true, but he was one man. They also agreed that they could trust Soval and General Shran of Andoria, none of whom were in powerful enough positions to do what needed to be done at the moment. So they made some decisions, some risky and potentially deadly decisions.

=/\=

 **Back on Earth. A Week Later.**

 **A Remote Bar, San Francisco.**

T'Pol walked into the bar and took a seat at a table in the back. She ordered a club soda, much to the waitress' disgust, and slowly sipped the beverage once it was brought to her.

After about ten minutes of waiting, a young man came to fetch her and escorted her down a narrow hallway and up a staircase. There, waiting for her in a room, were Harris and Admiral Wallace.

"Gentlemen," T'Pol said mildly.

"Commander," Wallace replied. "When are you going to allow us to make you a captain and give you your own command?"

She looked back at the man, her expression never changing. "I do not believe that we are here to discuss that, Admiral," she stated, then took the seat across the desk from the two men.

"You have intel for us?" Harris asked, beginning to sense something was off.

"Yes…and no," the Vulcan replied.

"What?" Wallace retorted. "Comman…"

" _If you will allow me,"_ she cut in smoothly. The two men looked at one another, and a message of disquiet passed. They said nothing.

"Please understand first of all," she continued, "that I am not alone. Any more than either of you are, I am sure. So it would be unwise to attempt to jeopardize my safety in any way."

"What is this?" Wallace asked, rising.

"Please sit…sir. What I have to say, I assure you, you will find quite intriguing."

Slowly the admiral re-seated himself. The two men sat back with looks of disapproval on their faces.

"There is valuable intel on this data disk," T'Pol said, sliding it over to the men. "It will greatly affect the war effort."

Harris smiled, reaching for the disk. "That's all you had to say, Commander," he grinned.

"I believe you have arranged for Captain Tucker's service record to be cleared, Admiral, and for the treatment he needs in order to resume his command to be carried out; and furthermore, that no charges be brought against Captain Reed or myself for our involvement in any of the events from these last weeks."

"That was the agreement." Wallace nodded warily. "But should we ever need your services again, I'm sure you will make yourselves available…uh, to _Starfleet_ that is, of course; in service to your world, that goes without saying." Then the man sneered and, visibly relaxing, they both rose to leave.

"Not so fast, please," T'Pol said, lifting her hand. " _None of us_ shall continue to be under the control of section 31, Admiral." Her eyes travelled first to him, then to Harris. "In fact, should we determine that our unique set of skills are needed at a given time, _we_ will decide when and where they are to be used, and for what purpose. We will take orders from no one, but will function as independent operatives. However, _you_ will fund our cause as required."

"You must be out of your mind!" Wallace bellowed, his face reddening with astonished rage.

T'Pol stood and leaned over on the desk, pushing a PADD over to the men. "Then we will be forced to release copies of this information to as many international news channels as will accept it," she said.

Harris pressed the 'Play' button. The men watched the video in silence for a few moments. It showed Wallace and Harris meeting with V'Las of the High Council, Minster Talmok, Koss' father, and Kennar of Voltaire (last seen on Krios Prime), all Romulan operatives.

"T– this isn't what it seems," Wallace stammered. All the bombast had gone out of him; he was crumpling like a deflating balloon. "We were trying to prevent a damned war!"

"Or attempting to secure your own situations should things not go well for United Earth," T'Pol replied coldly.

"That's not true," Harris replied desperately. "Look! Some things have to be done for appearance's sake. You do whatever it takes to gain the upper hand! So you make deals with bastards that you don't ever intend to carry out!"

"No?" T'Pol said, coolly incredulous. "Will United Earth's government see it that way? Will the Vulcan High Council?"

"What do you want, T'Pol?" Wallace asked.

The Vulcan sat back down and leaned back in her chair. "All that I have stated before, and more."

The two men looked at one another, and sat down again without a word.

"Shall we continue?" she said. "I am certain we can reach an agreement."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 **Ten Months Later.**

Hoshi had been totally frustrated by Malcolm's lack of interest in helping to plan one of the biggest days of their lives. He hadn't wanted to sit down with the wedding planner or give input; he had simply told his fiancé to tell him what to wear, when and where to show up, and he'd be there. But on the other hand it was sort of flattering, that he trusted her to do a good job of it, and besides it gave her free rein to make whatever plans she wanted – within reason.

He was definitely not thrilled, however, when he was told that their 'quiet little wedding' of fifty people had grown to a little over one hundred and then somehow ballooned to _two_ hundred, thanks to Hoshi's meddling, uh, _overzealous_ mother. He had finally put his foot down and cut the guest list off there.

The husband-to-be had been somewhat apprehensive (well, actually, terrified) when Trip, the best man, promptly told him that him that he would be required to dance in front of those two hundred people. But the best man took his duties seriously and sprang into action, forcibly enrolling the groom in dance lessons along with another 'apprehensive' member of the wedding party, one of the bridesmaids.

So Malcolm and T'Pol took dance lessons in the evenings for six weeks prior to the big day, and practiced with Trip and Liz Cutler, the maid of honor, as an extra precaution.

 **Wedding Day.**

The wedding was held in a chapel near Starfleet headquarters in the middle of June on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The décor was white, with traces of purple and fuchsia. Hoshi had always loved roses, but after her ordeal with the _Ice Queen,_ as they had come to refer to V'Shele, she could not bring herself to admire them anymore. Therefore, she chose white gardenias, with purple and fuchsia tulips, and a lacy spray of baby's-breath as her flowers for the day.

The bride wore a fitted white silk mermaid dress, with short sleeves just off the shoulder. There was lace embroidery around the shoulder and the tail, and both this and the train were sprinkled with pearls. More pearls and crystals peeked out from the cascade of her bouquet.

The maid of honor, Liz, wore a fitted purple ankle-length dress, also off the shoulder with short sleeves. The bridesmaids (T'Pol, Anna Hess, and Madeleine, Malcolm's sister) wore the same dress in fuchsia, and they all carried three gardenias, one white, one purple and one fuchsia, in a frill of baby's-breath.

The groom wore his Starfleet 'dress whites' uniform, his medals appropriately displayed on his chest. The best man and the groomsmen (Travis, Hoshi's brother, and one of Malcolm's cousins who was an officer in the Royal Navy) all wore their dress whites too, with their medals likewise on display.

Erika Hernandez, who had in the last few months been promoted to Commodore and taken command of the Starship _Xfinity_ , performed a special prayer and blessing over the bride and groom. But Rear Admiral Jonathan Archer performed the ceremony. And it was beautiful.

 **The Reception.**

The Reception was held in the ballroom at Starfleet headquarters. It was decorated with round tables and white folding chairs. The tables were adorned with tea light candles in the center, gardenias and strings of pearls.

For the cocktail hour the guests were served antipasto skewers with a grape tomato, balls of mozzarella and olive drizzled with fresh basil oil, or mini lettuce wraps with chicken in a savory Thai peanut sauce with a pecan, raisin and apple crostini speckled with honey and tangy blue cheese.

Dinner consisted of fresh salad made with organic greens to start, with organic string beans with portobello mushrooms, and emmentaler cheese nestled in magenta and white Swiss chard, along with a colorful dish of vegetable risotto for the vegetarians present.

For everyone else, there were fresh salads, together with heaped platters of bright-red steamed lobster, flank steak or free-range chicken with an accompaniment of portobello mushrooms, string beans and vegetable risotto.

No wedding could be considered complete without champagne, prosecco and sparkling California wine. Also included was a variety of liqueurs, such as Chambord, Midori, and schnapps.

The band played an assortment of music and Trip gave the traditional best man toast.

Then it was time for the bride and groom's dance.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the best man said, "Mr. and Mrs. Malcolm Reed." Then he gestured at them and toward the dance floor, and all of the guests broke into expectant applause.

Malcolm just stood there, however, holding Hoshi's hand, looking like a deer in headlights. His nerve had held through the ceremony, but now it had failed him completely.

Hoshi tugged at him. "C'mon," she whispered though her teeth, yanking his arm as discreetly as she could.

"Oh God, must I?" he whispered back.

" _Move it!"_ she demanded, again through gritted teeth, all the while maintaining her grand smile. Fortunately the authoritative tone got through, and before more than a couple of people would have had time to notice his resistance, he led her out.

Then they took the dance floor to Louis Armstrong's _Wonderful World_ , and as he braced into the correct stance to start the waltz she felt him relax. The steps had become familiar, and he was able to concentrate on them – and on her – rather than the audience. Despite his initial anxiety he had applied all his usual concentration to learning the dance, and was unexpectedly graceful. She gazed up into his eyes, and thought he'd never looked more handsome.

The happy couple danced on, lost to the world, as the guest cheered and clapped.

=/\=

As Malcolm and Hoshi appeared to drift into their own little cocoon of happiness, Trip grabbed T'Pol's hand. "Let's go," he ordered with a big smile.

But just as Malcolm had done, T'Pol stood frozen. "I…I do not believe it is necessary that I dance at this event," she said. "After all, this is the bride and groom's day, we do not wish to upstage them in any way."

"Oh no you don't!" Trip answered promptly. " _I'm_ the best man, _you're_ one of the bridesmaids, _you_ took lessons, _we_ practiced, and you're dancin', darlin'!"

"Trip! This is more difficult for me than I imagined. It is a deeply intimate thing to let you touch me! In front of a crowd of people it is impossible!"

"Yeah? Well it's gonna be a darn sight more embarrassin' if I have to pick you up and carry you over my shoulder onto that dance floor, missy!"

"You wouldn't?" T'Pol said looking at Trip sideways; and in a few moments they were on the floor dancing. For she knew that ever since he had undergone the alien gene therapy to restore his brain function, not only had his mental health status improved but he had experienced other benefits of the treatment as well. One of these highly agreeable 'side effects', they were called, was enhanced physical strength.

"Now this isn't so bad is it?" Trip said as he held the Vulcan and they danced to the music.

"No," she replied. "Actually, it is quite agreeable. Possibly even 'pleasant'," she admitted, seeing him glance down at her.

"You know I really hate that we deprived ourselves of this," he said, steering her effortlessly past one or two other couples who had decided to join in. "Now I'm jealous. We should have a weddin' ourselves, especially now. Actually, we should have two, one here and one on Vulcan. Bang the gong and everything!"

"I agree," T'Pol replied coolly.

"What?" Trip stopped in his tracks. "You agree, just like that? You mean I don't have to twist your arm? You're not going to tell me I'm being illogical 'cause we're already married?"

"No _Adun_ , I'm not going to say any of that. I know how important rituals are to you. And now that we are free to live as husband and wife, to serve together on the same ship without anyone questioning us, we should have a ceremony, and make it official in the eyes of your government since it is already official in the eyes of Vulcan."

"Wow!" he said, suddenly lifting her up off her feet and spinning her around. "You'd never believe how very, very happy you just made me!"

"Trip!" she protested, squirming as much as it was in keeping with Vulcan dignity to squirm. "Put me down! People are staring!"

"So what! Let 'em stare! If people don't know by now we're a couple, they're blind!"

Just then the waltz ended changed and a tango begin to play. T'Pol tried quickly to retreat to the sidelines, knowing what sort of an exhibition was coming, but Trip grabbed her and it was on.

It was a party. Everyone was having a great time. They were relaxed, and no one seemed to be concerned about an enemy attack. Of course _Xfinity_ was patrolling the war zones and _Columbia_ , _Enterprise_ and _Intrepid_ were all on alert, patrolling different areas of space, manned by capable crews. Almost everyone with whom the bride and groom were acquainted was here at the wedding, but deputies had been put in place for their absence.

But there had not been a Romulan ship seen in any of the sensitive zones in more than six months. To all intents and purposes, Starfleet believed the war to be over, though it still sent ships out to patrol the area just in case.

Commodore Archer had been promoted to admiral shortly after the incident with Hoshi's kidnapping and rescue. Coincidentally this happened right after the hearing into Trip's failure to follow his superior officer's orders on the battlefield. The hearing was conducted by Admiral Wallace, and over the course of this it was determined that due to his illness, Captain Tucker could not be held entirely responsible for his failure to comply with regulations. As a result of his activities, however, valuable intel had been obtained and an enemy ship captured. On the basis of these last he was recommended for a commendation.

Jon had mixed feelings about it all, to say the least, but accepted the outcome.

Minister Talmek of the High Council had met with an untimely death, propelling Soval into the suddenly vacant position. General Shran of Andoria was likewise elevated to a position of leadership in his government after the death of their Deputy Prime Minster of War. Working together, the new heads of state were able to steer the war efforts in an entirely different direction, and within months things began to take a turn. The war seemed to finally be coming to an end.

Hoshi, unfortunately, had never fully recovered from her ordeal on Capella Prime and never returned to her post on _Xfinity_. She'd accepted a position at Starfleet Academy teaching and continued to receive therapy for psychological trauma.

But today was for celebration and everything seemed right with the universe. As they danced to another waltz, Malcolm held his bride tightly and whispered into her ear. "Did I tell you how beautiful you looked today and how much I love you, Mrs. Reed?"

"Only about a hundred times," she replied with a grin. "But I'll take a hundred a one."

"Well, I plan to tell you every day, all day for the rest of our lives," he said, looking into her eyes.

"That's a little much don't you think, Captain Reed?"

"I just don't want you to ever doubt it," he told her, "or ever forget it."

"Malcolm," she said seriously. "If you never said it again, you've proven your love for me. And I won't ever forget it, not ever." She smiled up at him. He kissed her softly on the lips, and they continued dancing.

=/\=

As the day wore on and the festivities started to come to a close, the groom surveyed the room from his seat at the top table, sipping his drink quietly.

He watched his parents as they danced. His father had congratulated him and seemed genuinely happy for him – which in itself was an event. His mother had liked Hoshi from the start, though he was pleased that she at least hadn't waded in with _her_ suggestions for the guest list, or they'd have had to hire an extra marquee. He still wasn't sure whether Hoshi's parents had come to terms with him as their new son-in-law, but hell, they lived far enough away for it not to be all that much of a worry!

Quiet in the shadows for a moment, he saw Admiral Archer approach Commodore Hernandez. His curiosity was aroused, so he stayed very still, not wishing to be noticed.

"May I have this dance, Commodore," Jon asked Erika, reaching out his hand toward her.

Erika looked at the hand, and then up at him, and didn't respond.

"For heaven's sake Erika, I wasn't asking for a date or a roll in the hay or anything, just a dance. Come on, for old times' sake," he said.

At that, she smiled, and her previously neutral expression gave way to a look of unexpected mischief. "Ah, why not," she said with a grin. "Strictly for old times' sake." She got up and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, where they danced together several times, presumably having a lot of old times to celebrate.

Keeping the hall under observation as a good Tactical Officer should, Malcolm transferred his attention to Travis and Liz. A crowd had gathered around them. Apparently they were trying to drink one another under the table. Anna Hess was behind Liz, coaching her and cheering her on, while Martin Russet was acting as Travis' coach and trainer.

Hoshi had informed him a couple of minutes ago that the two officers had a bet. If Liz won, Travis had to wear her underwear for a month when he was off duty. Not the Starfleet issue ones either – the lacy, frilly, skimpy stuff. If Travis won, Liz had to wash his _draws_ as he said it, for a month, by hand. The part the rest of the gang didn't know about (true to her previous role as a comm officer, Hoshi always got the details from somewhere) was that if Travis won, Liz had to come to the XO's quarters and he could do to her whatever he wanted to. If she won, however, he was duty bound to show up at her quarters and _she_ got to call the shots. Doubtless Travis was hoping the girl of his dreams had a saucy imagination, but she definitely _did_ have a wicked sense of humor; with him wearing lacy knickers he might yet end up watching girly movies and replays of the Ladies' Final at Wimbledon. As the contest was standing right now, it looked like Travis was going to have to get used to the feel of Liz's thong underneath his civvies in the mess hall and in the gym every night for a month, not to mention brushing up his knowledge of lawn tennis.

Next, Malcolm observed Kov and V'Lyn talking; talking, it seemed, about everything under the sun, eating, drinking, dancing, as if no one else was even in the room. _When_ had that happened? Was this love – for a pair of Vulcans?

Jackson and Wesley had hooked up with a set of MACO twins. They were having a great time talking about weapons and blowing things up.

He noticed Dr. Phlox still having dinner, carefully sampling and savoring every morsel of every dish and each of the liqueurs. Malcolm looked around to catch glimpse of the doctor's wife, Feezel. She was flirting with an assortment of men in the room and Phlox seemed to pay her no mind. The Brit laughed a little at that.

Trip and T'Pol were arguing about something at the next table – probably whether Vulcans ought to tango in public with quite _that_ much passion.

Malcolm decided to tune them out. All things considered, he decided, everything was right in the universe.

He had transferred his attention back to the dance floor when he heard Trip's communicator chirp. He was dismayed, but not wholly surprised, when a few minutes later the engineer slid into the vacant seat beside him; Lady Luck had never bestowed on him her unalloyed approval.

"Hey Mal," Trip said, low-voiced. "Something's come up and we need to handle it."

Stifling a sigh, Malcolm rose. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll meet you at the launch bay."

"You're not going."

Malcolm frowned at him.

The other man gestured around them and shrugged. "Mal, you just got _married_. You've got a honeymoon to go on, so chill."

Malcolm's body language relaxed a little, though he still stood irresolute. "Well, maybe you're right…."

"Damn right I'm right," Trip replied. "Look, if we can't handle this little assignment without you, we're a pretty sad bunch after everything you've taught us. Hey, you're the boss and everybody knows that. I run the ship, you run pretty much everything else. But let me handle this, okay?"

The Brit laughed a little. "All right then," he finally said. "See you lot when you get back. Just check in with me and let me know how things are going."

"I'll do nothing of the kind," Trip said. "Don't even think about it. You just go on to the South of France, then to Andoria for that skiing trip, then to Risa."

"Oh certainly. Right. Risa," Malcolm said, trying vainly to sound enthusiastic. Perhaps he should have paid more attention after all when Hoshi was planning the wedding – at least the honeymoon part of it.

"It'll be different this time," Trip laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hoshi'll make sure of that."

"Hoshi will make sure of what?" the bride asked as she approached the two men.

"You'll make sure that your husband has a bang-up time on Risa, isn't that right?"

"That was the idea the first time, and look what happened _then_ ," Malcolm muttered in his ear.

"Of course I will," Hoshi said smiling. "I still can't figure out why you two hate that place so much. I have nothing but fond memories of it."

"Yes. Definitely. Right," Malcolm said. "Some fared better than others."

He shook Trip's hand as Hoshi turned away to embrace a passing aunt. "Don't worry about later on, I'll make your excuses." He paused, serious now. "Take care of yourself, mate. Don't take any chances out there."

Trip laughed. "You've taught me better than that, pal. Enjoy your honeymoon."

With a feeling of foreboding he couldn't quite dispel, Malcolm watched his friend as he turned to see his team already gathering unobtrusively by the doorway. As he joined them, they all exited the ballroom and headed for the grounds, doubtless heading back to their hotel rooms to change and meet up at the shuttle for _Excalibur_.

=/\=

"Hey Captain!" Jackson started before they'd even crossed the lawn. "What are we dealing with here? An enemy ship in our atmosphere? Slavers? Romulans rearing their ugly heads again?"

"Maybe we could just go ahead and blast the bastards out of the sky and have done with 'em, eh?" Wesley said, grinning.

"Alright, alright," Trip replied. "You two calm down already. We aren't exactly sure what we're dealing with yet, so as soon as we're back on _Excalibur_ I want the two of you to head straight for the armory and start counting plasma conduits or torpedo casings or something – and try to stay out of trouble!"

The two men looked at one another. "Aye, sir," they said sadly. Talk about 'Smith and Wesson', sometimes they acted more like Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"And T'Pol," he said quietly, catching her by the elbow, "I want you to stay here."

"And why would I do that?" she asked, her tone suddenly frosty.

"Because I don't really need you on this. I've got Gannet. She's more than capable of handling things."

"You have already said you are uncertain what exactly the threat consists of. All we know so far is that Admiral Wallace is dead and appears to have murdered. In addition, Mr. Harris has gone missing. And if that were not enough, there appears to be an enemy vessel in Earth's atmosphere and _Columbia_ has sent out a distress signal. Our sister ships are patrolling the war zones and ours is the closest ship in range, which is why we have been summoned."

"That's right. Maybe there's a connection, maybe not. Maybe Harris is involved in Wallace's death, maybe not. Maybe whoever killed him has Harris too, I don't know. But this is a big deal and you're pregnant, and I don't want you gettin' hurt."

" _Adun_ , I could get hurt walking around at home. I could fall down the stairs, I could trip outside, I could get hit by a car, I could…"

"Alright, alright…I just don't want to take any chances."

"Won't it look strange if I suddenly cease all activities without reason?"

"I didn't say cease _all_ activities, just _these_ activities, the really dangerous stuff." Then Trip put his hand over his eyes. "Look, I know we agreed we wouldn't tell anybody until we knew this was a viable pregnancy, and we still don't have to, all I'm asking is that you sit this one out… for me. C'mon, we talked about this. About you quittin' the team. Now is good a time as any."

T'Pol was silent for a moment. "I will resign from the team," she agreed at last. "It is logical, after all. When the baby comes, there will be no possibility of my undertaking covert operations, or working outside the home in any capacity, for the first two years at least."

"That's my girl." He kissed her on the head. Then he left, to get ready for the mission.

=/\=

The reception was at an end, and the bride and groom had been given a noisy send-off. All the guest were leaving the building, and two women happened to find themselves standing next to each other on the street as they waited for a hover car.

"Nice wedding, don't you think?" the elderly one walking with the support of a cane asked.

"Yes, it was lovely, I suppose," the woman dressed in a Coridian ceremonial mask replied.

"Are you affiliated with the bride or the groom?"

"Both, actually. Why do you ask?"

The old woman shifted a little and faced the alien, studying her. "Oh, just curious."

"And you?" The carved red and gold mask covered most of the face. The eyes behind it were in deep shadow.

"I could say the same," the elderly woman replied. "I have quite a lot of history with the bride and the groom. A _great deal_ of history."

The Coridian then looked back toward the wedding ceremony. "You could say I have ties to several people affiliated with the bride and groom, but I have a particular interest in a certain officer at Starfleet."

"Oh?"

There was silence. No more was offered, or asked.

"Might I offer you a ride somewhere my dear?" the elderly woman asked, as an oncoming vehicle signaled that it was drawing up at the side of the road.

"Perhaps," the alien replied. "But _you are not the old woman you are trying to appear!"_

" _And you are no Coridian!"_ the other snapped back.

Silence fell again, tingling.

A limousine pulled up, and a smartly-uniformed man jumped out and opened the door for the 'old woman'. She turned towards her alien companion and gestured for her to get in.

The supposed 'Coridian' hesitated, then slowly walked toward the open door and slid inside. The other got in after her. The chauffeur closed the door behind them, got into the driver's seat, and drove away.

Inside a car a little way behind them, another woman sat watching through a pair of binoculars. When the limo in front of her car took off she made an exasperated sound. "If those bitches think they can evade me, they have another think coming!" she snapped. "Follow them!"

The driver, a Vulcan male, turned to face her. "My lady, I am but to serve," he said. "It would be my genuine pleasure." And they took off after the limousine.

 **The End.**

* * *

 **This was supposed to be an Epilogue, but it grew into a chapter. I just love cliffhangers. So you let your imagination run wild! I may never do a part IV, but if I do, I have plenty to work with. Thanks to everyone for reading and sharing your thoughts about the story, it's been a blast!**

 **I did a Braxin with the wedding reception (the food)- I hope I did you proud!). Thanks again to my wonderful beta reader, LoyaulteMeLie. This work would not have been what it was without her. She's the greatest!**

 **In addition, since I used the names of some established entities, (** _ **Xfinity, Smith and Wesson)**_ **I need to make some disclaimers. This is a work of fiction and no infringements intended; no profit was made from this work. I claim the rights to only the characters I created herein, all others belong to Paramount. Until next time... Bri.**


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